Star Wars: Kandosii'tal
by CDrake
Summary: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… The galaxy has fallen under the rule of the Empire. Order is kept through fear, and the terrified masses are left to fend for themselves. In this harsh, unforgiving galaxy, a boy will discover that he is a child of two worlds, both hunter and hunted. He must learn to embrace both sides of his heritage…or be consumed by the coming darkness.
1. Family Business

Mandalore

15 years BBY (Before the Battle of Yavin)

"They're beautiful."

Xander Caden looked over at his sweating wife with dreamy eyes and nodded slowly in affirmation, returning his gaze to the two newborns in their arms. One was lighter-skinned, with light brown hair and gentle, ice-blue eyes that were alternating between the both of them. He had stopped crying, much to their surprise, less than ten minutes after birth, just five minutes before his much more impetuous brother came out, vocals blaring at max. He hadn't stopped crying since, although it was less crying and more…raging, as if he were a force of nature begging to be released. His appearance was as different compared to his brother as his behavior, with jet-black hair and dark blue eyes that were narrowed to slits in his infantile rage. Telia giggled at his baby pouting and the wild flapping of his flabby arms, gently poking her son in the stomach and watching in delight as he suddenly stopped screaming, instead opting to stare at her with confused eyes.

"This one's a fighter," she cooed, nuzzling his soft baby skin and breathing in his scent before looking over at her husband. "Takes after his father."

Xander slid into bed next to his wife and pressed his hip against hers, cuddling close as they held their newborns next to each other. "I don't seem to remember his mother being such a bad fighter herself."

Telia snuggled closer to him. "But only his father has such perfect hair." She mock pouted as she ran a hand through her own. "Mine is so coarse and grainy."

The man pressed his lips to her head. "You ever hear me complain?"

She ran her free hand over his chest as her head leaned on his shoulder. "Mmm, never."

They both lay there for a long time, staring at the gentle rise and fall of their children's chests in parental glee. They had waited so long for this, and now, they were perfect. Xander ran a hand through his younger son's hair, smiling gently.

"So what are we going to call them?" he asked his wife.

She smiled at him, then at them both, turning her gaze to the calm one, who was staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She smiled wider. "Alen. Alen Li-am, after a great ancestor." Telia ran a hand through his thin hair as her husband waited for her to explain. "He was a Jedi Knight over three thousand years ago during the war between the Galactic Republic and the Sith Empire. Ever curious, ever questioning."

"And opposed to the separation of emotions from Knighthood, I'd wager."

Telia gave him a cheeky smile. "Well, considering he eventually ended up marrying his own apprentice, I'd assume so."

Xander's eyebrows went far up. "Woah…not…exactly the answer I was expecting." He shrugged in approval. "_Kandosii_."

Telia scrunched up her face. "Still can't nail down what that means, for the life of me."

Her husband scratched the back of his head. "It's…complicated. Like most phrases in Mando'a, it has multiple meanings ranging from technical to colloquial. Technically, _kandosii_ means 'relentless,' or 'indomitable.'"

Her face flashed realization. "Your ship, the _Kandosii'tal_—_Indomitable Blood_."

He smiled and nodded. "Exactly. In that case, the meaning's literal. When used colloquially, though, it means something more like…well, it's a compliment, or a cheer. Effectively, 'kudos.'"

"Ah." She stroked little Alen's thin hair, turning her gaze to the unnamed boy after a while. "What about him? He certainly has your temperament."

Xander smiled as he watched the infant grab his thick index finger with both tiny hands, then bring his gums down on it hard. He chuckled lightly along with his wife.

"Barely an hour old and already taking after you."

He pouted at her. "I'll have you know that I rarely ever use my teeth in a fight." His mouth curved in a smirk as he looked back at the baby. "Or, in his case, gums."

Telia giggled. "Well?"

Xander wore a frown of concentration as he racked his mind. "Xel. Xel Caden."

"Any particular reason?"

"Xel was the name of a man I knew in the Outer Rim. One of my closest friends before the war. Not much of a fighter, but he gave his heart and soul to help me whenever I needed it." He ran a hand over the boy's head gently. "I fully intend on him being a fighter, but without that dedication, that loyalty…he might as well be muscle for hire." Xander scowled slightly. "And no son of mine will _ever_ share that title as long as I have any say in the matter."

She pressed her lips against his cheek and whispered in his ear. "I know. You're far too honorable for that."

Xander looped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her body against his tightly, staying silent for a long time as he enjoyed the company of his family. "_Ner aliit_." My family. "Beautiful."

Her smile faded. "And temporary."

His eyes screwed up tightly, and he sighed. "What are you talking about?"

"Why do you ask questions that you already know the answers to? I can _feel_ them, Xander. I could feel them the moment they were conceived…and I know _you_ can too."

He sighed again, heavily. "I had hoped…I was wrong. That I was just imagining it."

"No, love. I…I almost wish we were…but we're not. As they grow, so will their presence in the Force, and there will come a point when we will be unable to hide them."

"Are you sure? There must be a way to—"

"You can barely keep _yourself_ hidden, Xander, much less two children, and I'm not talented enough to keep them both hidden and still perform normally."

"Then we _teach_ them. Our family isn't meant to be separated, no matter how dire the circumstances."

"Xander, please. You _know_ what the Empire will do if they discover their existence. The Emperor will stop at _nothing_ to possess them, and sooner or later, he'll succeed. Our only chance—_their_ only chance is in anonymity. You know I'm right."

His fists clenched around the baby wrappings of Xel. "Yes, I know…damn you. We'll have to separate them." He ran a hand across his sons' heads. "But not yet."

"No," she agreed, leaning back into his shoulder. "Not yet."

…

13 years later

Coronet City, Corellia

2 years BBY

"How much exactly?"

"14K alive, 10 dead."

Xander's eyebrows raised within his Mandalorian helmet. "Quite a haul. What did he _do_?"

The CorSec officer's eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as he averted his gaze. "Something…disgusting. Trust me, you don't want to know."

Xander nodded slowly. "I see." He turned his head to look behind him, spotting a slightly shorter body in a blue and silver suit of full Mandalorian armor. Although he was standing straight with perfect posture, Xander could tell that his son was having trouble adjusting to the weight. He gave him a nod and turned back to the officer. "We'll take the job."

The man, a balding lieutenant, sighed in relief. "Good. This psycho's escaped justice long enough." Xander nodded and turned for the door, but the officer grabbed his arm and leaned in close, whispering. "Look, the department posted this bounty, but between you and me, this guy doesn't deserve to live. I'll pay you the full fee no matter how you get him, dead or alive."

"I appreciate the gesture," Xander said, gently pulling away from his grip, "but I'm a man of honor. I'll bring him in—alive."

The lieutenant gulped and nodded at the harsh tone that came from the t-visored helmet's vocalizer. "Y-Yes sir."

Xander turned away and motioned to his fully armored son, striding for the door with his typical fast pace as they exited the precinct.

…

1 hour later

Coronet Spaceport, Corellia

"So where was he seen last?"

Xel couldn't quite understand the mess of strange sounds coming from this Aqualish's mouth. The language didn't agree with him, although he picked up a phrase or two, just enough to get the gist of the conversation.

"I see," his father said, index fingering the knife at his shoulder absently as the alien continued in his explanation. "Well," he said after another minute or so, reaching into a pouch at his belt, "you've been very helpful." He slapped a twenty-cred chip into the alien's open palm. "Thank you." As they walked away together, Xander could feel his son's discomfort. "You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just…" He grunted as he swung his right arm in a slow circle. "Just breaking it in."

"I meant the job, but that too."

"Oh. Well, I mean…you've got the lead here. I'm just the student."

Xander smiled behind his helmet's faceplate and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're more than that, Xel."

"I know," he said, squirming slightly at the fatherly contact. He was sure they were being stared at. After all, most of the galaxy believed Mandos to be cold, ruthless killers. How would it look to have the _auretiise_ see how they _really_ were around each other?

Xander smiled wider and chuckled almost noiselessly, pulling his hand away as they kept walking back to the ship. He knew exactly what was going through his son's head, having once been in the exact same position with _his_ father. Sooner or later, Xel would learn that it didn't matter what the _auretiise_ thought of them. Mandos were Mandos, and no one's notions, preconceived or otherwise, could change that.

They reached his Kuat Heavy Striker a few minutes later, the beast of a ship representing home as much as transportation. Aptly named, the _Kandosii'tal_ sported over a half-dozen heavy turrets and turbolasers alone with armor to match. Its engines had been refitted over a dozen times, and the power core was meant for a ship twice its size, allowing it greater draw for its weapons and propulsion. A mastery of Mandalorian engineering, the modifications to the vessel were worth more than the ship itself. In addition to the craft's considerable weaponry and other systems, a Spartan, three-man crew deck had been built into its hull, allowing Xander and two others to live on it for an indefinite period of time. It was the perfect vessel for Mandalorians, the very essence of nomadic life.

Xel gave out a long sigh of relief as he popped the seal on his helmet and pulled it off, setting it on his personal weapons locker in the crew deck. "Home sweet home." He ran a hand over the _beskar_ helmet, admiring the sigils carved into its near-indestructible surface before doffing the rest of his armor, folding the flight suit neatly and stacking the armor plates in a way that would allow quick donning. Dressed in a black jumpsuit and boots, he made his way to the cockpit, where his father was tuning the systems and performing the pre-flight check. "So, did we have any saboteurs this time, _buir_?"

Xander involuntarily winced at the reminder of the previous month's…excitement. "No, _ad'ika_, not this time. Coronet has much better security than Nal Hutta…and much better crime rates, current mission aside."

Xel plopped into the copilot seat of the vessel, checking his side of the instruments as meticulously as he did every time. "So Dad," he said after a while, "what we do...bounty hunting..."

"Yes?"

"Why do we do it, exactly?"

"It's...something like the family business."

"No, I mean…if they wanted to get this guy so badly, why didn't they send one of their _own_ to pick him up?"

Xander pursed his lips and shook his head, right hand reaching absently for the ignition switch of their sublight engines. "It's politics, son. Jurisdiction. Criminals run to seedy places like Nar Shaddaa—and basically every other world under Hutt control—because they don't extradite criminals. With very few exceptions, if you commit a crime in a 'civilized' section of space and manage to get that far, you're safe. Hutts aren't too choosy about the company they keep…not most of them, anyway."

"And they can't send in one of their agents because…?"

"Because if they do, they'll be breaking galactic law _and_ risking their necks not only against the target they're after, but the veritable sea of criminal _shabuire_ that would just love to put two in their back."

"So they send in bounty hunters to counter both dangers."

Xander nodded. "Since we're independent contractors, we're not bound by jurisdiction, and since bounty hunters are, in most cases, viewed as criminals in their own right, we don't draw too many stares."

Xel nodded in understanding and double-checked his last readings. "Okay, all good here."

"Good on my end. Ready to fly."

The younger Mando smiled widely as his father expertly took them upward, turning right 90 degrees before kicking in the sublight engines and jetting them into the air, arcing out of atmosphere into the void of space.

"Hyperdrive online." Xander flicked a switch. "Coordinates locked." He gave his son a nod. "Punch it."

Xel grinned and pushed the lever between them forward, bracing himself for the familiar jolt of rapid acceleration. Star points in the black beyond their viewport turned to streaks of white as they accelerated past the speed of light, breaking off into the blue tunnel of hyperspace. No matter how many times they jumped, Xel never got tired of it, the thrill of the movement, the snap of the ship, and the amazing quiet that followed once they were on their way. It was all so jolting and contrasting and…freeing. Although it had once been hard for him to accept, he now understood the appeal of a nomadic lifestyle, and why so many Mandos could choose and had chosen to live this way.

"And we're on our way," his father remarked, leaning back in his chair and sighing. "You should get some rest. Won't do either of us much good if you pass out in the middle of a fight."

Xel rolled his eyes. "_Buir_, you and I both know that'll never happen."

Xander grinned. "Of course not, but you've hardly napped these past few days, and I don't want your response time being sluggish."

The boy sighed heavily. "Fine, but let me know when we're close. You are _not_ leaving me on the ship again."

Xander's smile faded. Last job, the one he'd promised would be Xel's first, he had left his son on the Striker with no way to find him, but not because he'd forgotten. He genuinely hadn't wanted Xel along for that bounty. His son had matured greatly for his age, even among Mando boys, but there were still some things he wasn't meant to see. The memory of that mission still left a darkness on his mind, and he shuddered to think how that would have affected Xel. He shook his head and snapped himself back to the present.

"No, son, not this time." He rose and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "This time we hunt together." Xander gently shoved his son in the direction of the crew deck. "Now get some rest."

"Yes sir."

…

Nar Shaddaa

They had visited a half dozen seedy clubs and dives that Xander knew from experience were frequented by criminals and fugitives. Thus far, they had discovered that their target, one Len Taekis, a Twi'lek, was made of smoke and mirrors. Rumors and hearsay were all they had to go on, and Xel was getting aggravated. At this point, he hoped for a lucky number seven. As always, their entrance drew more than a few heads. Wherever they went, Mandalorians had a reputation that preceded them. One walking into a bar in full armor just for pleasure was about as rare as a Hutt with two tails. It was no surprise, then, that many of the patrons, some hardened criminals, gave the, not one, but _two_ Mandos a wide berth as they strode up to the bar. The taller one in blue-gray armor laid his left forearm on the counter as his right reached for a holo at his belt.

"Len Taekis," he said, laying the picture within view of the bartender.

The person behind the counter, an Ithorian, shook his massive head before speaking in his native tongue, a language that Xel could actually understand. "Not one of my regulars, for sure."

"He wouldn't be," Xander said quietly in his vocabulator-distorted voice. "He's a recent fugitive."

The Ithorian's four throats sighed powerfully in understanding. Anyone and everyone who ran a club on the Smuggler's Moon knew the endless cycle of crime and flight that their world saw. "I see. I don't keep an eye out for that sort of thing, but you could ask Chell." He nodded to a smoke-filled section of the bar, where a green-skinned Nautilan was breathing in the heavy, sweet-smelling steam produced by his pipe.

"My thanks," Xander said to the 'tender, slapping a cred chip on the counter before striding off. "Xel, stay at the bar and keep an eye out. I've got a bad feeling about this."

The boy nodded to his father and kept his head on a swivel, sharp mind automatically marking all the exits and entrances, the tight, shadowy corridors, anything and everything that could be used for an ambush.

"Hey stranger."

Xel turned his armored head toward the source of the voice, revealing a scantily clad Zeltron in his view, her finer assets barely obscured by the thin fabric she wore. Not even the heavy smoke from the Nautilan's pipe, which was drifting toward them with an outflow of air, could obscure the fact that she was very attractive.

"Ma'am," he said respectfully, dipping his helmeted head slightly in greeting.

"You lookin' for somethin'?"

"_Someone_, actually."

A sly smile came to the red-skinned woman's face as she posed suggestively. "Really?"

"Not the way you think." He patted his hips, where two Mandalorian Assault Pistols were holstered.

Her eyebrows went up slightly. "Ah. I see." She didn't seem put off in the least, opting to lean her side against the bar as he was doing, the two facing each other. "So who's the unlucky fierfek?"

Xel's eyes narrowed. "I'd rather not say." His lips curved slightly upward as he laid a hand on her arm. "He's a dangerous fellow, and I wouldn't want a nice girl like you to get in any kind of trouble."

She put a hand to her chest and batted her eyelashes at him appreciatively. "Such a gentleman. Not a common trait these days."

He scoffed. "You only think _that_ 'cause you're never among Mandos. With exceedingly rare exceptions, we treat our _cyar'ike_ right."

"Huh?"

He coughed discreetly. "Excuse me. Sometimes I forget who can speak our language."

"Guess that's because you're _always_ around Mandos."

"That'd be my wager, yes."

She was silent a while. "So, you here alone?"

He raised an eyebrow inside his helmet and struck a pose. "Why? You lookin' to steal me away?"

She smiled and looked away mock demurely. "Maybe."

He sighed audibly. "Sadly, I'm on the job, and as much as I'd like to…" He ran a gloved hand through her raven-black hair and brushed his fingers over the back of her neck. "I don't mix work and pleasure."

She pouted exaggeratedly and leaned away from the bar. "Shame." She leaned in close and whispered huskily into the side of his helmet. "Maybe once you've tracked down your prey, you can put _me_ on your hit list. I'd certainly like to see what those…guns of yours can do."

He smiled malevolently. "Maybe you will," he purred back deeply, gently grasping her hand for a moment before letting her glide away. He watched the sway of her hips as she strode out of the club and out of sight. His eyes narrowed to slits inside his helmet as his voice turned darker. "Maybe you will."

…

1 hour later

"Are you sure about this?"

Xel nodded emphatically. "Between the intel you got from the Nautilan and the conversation I had, this is definitely the place."

Xander looked at the abandoned industrial building dubiously. His contact _had_ mentioned that Taekis was in business with a Trandoshan gang that ran this area, but to be so specific…

"What _exactly_ led you here?"

Xel sighed heavily. He had explained this to his father at least a half-dozen times in the last half hour, but as he reflected on the conversations, he realized he was probably talking a thousand miles a minute. "Okay, there was this Zeltron that walked into the bar." He saw his father's eyebrows raise massively. "No, it's not the beginning of a joke. She strode right over to me and struck up a very…suggestive conversation."

Xander stared at him for a few seconds. "And?"

"And she came on to me before she found out I was on the hunt."

His father's eyes narrowed. "How much did you tell?"

"No specifics, except that our target's a dangerous man. She was…touched by my concern for her safety, and complimented me for it."

"How exactly does that help us find Taekis?"

"I put a tracker on her neck when she thought I was admiring her hair."

"Why?"

Xel scrunched his face up. "I…I don't know exactly. Something just felt…off about her. I don't know how to describe it. It was…like a gut feeling, except…I don't know, more…real? More certain?"

Xander's lips parted slightly, and his eyes narrowed almost indiscernibly. "I see," he said firmly. He could remember all too well the first time he felt that way… "No harm in investigating, then."

Xel's face flashed surprise before he nodded. "Right." His helmet went on before he checked his weapons and equipment. In addition to his Mandalorian APs, Xel was packing a serrated durasteel knife on the right side of his belt and a pair of wrist rocket launchers with extra power packs. His left gauntlet sported a grappling hook in addition to a liquid cable launcher at his belt. His suit was _beskar'gam_, a rare full set of Mandalorian iron armor, a near-indestructible metal resistant even to lightsaber strikes. His father had a similar set with a Mandalorian shoulder cloak, though the silvery color of his armor was much darker. Xel had once asked Xander what it meant.

In Mandalorian armors, colors were chosen very specifically, and were often symbolic. This was certainly Xander's case. The dark blue that comprised the pauldrons, gauntlets, and other highlights of his armor represented reliability, and the gray that served as the majority of his color scheme stood for mourning. Specifically, mourning a lost love. On his right pauldron was the symbol of Mandalore in red, and on his left in orange—honoring his father and a lust for life. As Xel prepared to enter the building, he couldn't help but wonder about the story behind the left pauldron. Considering the predominant gray scheme of his armor, he would think that gold, the color of vengeance, would feature somewhere, but it didn't, although there was a fine line between orange and gold.

Xel's own armor was essentially a bare canvas apart from the blue highlights. The bright silver was not symbolic, and no other color schemes featured. He was too young, too untried and inexperienced to truly have something to dedicate his _beskar'gam_ to. Both of them sported jetpacks with designs congruent to the rest of their armor, shying away from the missile-mounted packs carried by most Mandos to favor a streamlined design built for distance and speed. His father was packing a pair of Mandalorian APs and a BlasTech T-27A2 Assault Blaster Rifle, codenamed the Blackjack. With a compact design, three modes of fire, and a side-mounted grenade launcher, the rifle was the perfect tool in armor-busting crowd suppression.

_Probably came in handy during the war,_ Xel mused as he followed his father to the edge of the building they were perched on. Xander gave him a nod before diving off the structure with his son in tow, both of them activating their jetpacks and curving back upward, using their previous downward momentum to rocket toward the building. Landing softly on a windowsill, Xander motioned for him to activate helmet comms. Xel complied with a nod, turning off his external vocabulator in favor of helmet-to-helmet communication.

"Not sure what we're going to find in there," Xander said over the link, "but if Trandos are involved, be extra careful. They're strong as _haran_ and just as vicious. You _definitely_ don't want to go up against them in close quarters."

"They can't possibly pierce this armor, not with their teeth or claws, anyway."

"I agree. The armor may make you impervious to their strikes, but your flight suit isn't quite as indestructible. They'll find the gaps and dig in if you're not careful, so if you do have to get close, cut and run. Literally."

"Copy."

With a nod of understanding to each other, Xander activated a plasma torch built into his right gauntlet, cutting away a grate that led to the building's ventilation system. They both clambered in, going through one darkened vent after the next until they reached the ceiling of a large, open room about 40 feet tall. Xander tapped the side of his helmet twice, activating a long-range microphone on the antenna of his helmet, which shifted forward and down to line up with his eyeslit. He transmitted the feed to Xel.

"How soon can you get me offworld?"

_Voice. Male. Taekis, I'd wager. _

"Depends on how much you can pay."

_Deep-voiced hiss. Reptilian. Trando captain._

"Look, I already paid you to put me up here for two months in advance. Take your money from there."

More hisses. "Not good enough. Maila said she ran into a Mando earlier. Was standing at a bar with your holo laid out on the counter."

"She _what_?"

_My thoughts exactly._ Xel mentally facepalmed. How could he have forgotten to conceal the holo?

"Wasn't alone, either."

That drew the attention of both hunters.

"Oh? Do tell," Taekis added with some bite.

"Ever heard of Dengar?"

_Dengar?_ By the sudden tension in Xander's frame, he recognized the name.

"No…no, no, no, you're telling me that Fett _and_ Dengar are after me?"

"Not Fett, Tails, a Mando. Wrong armor. Still means trouble, which means extra pay for us not to just cut you loose."

"All...all right, fine. Just…get me out of here before one of those lunatics puts a bolt between my eyes."

"Little late for that!"

Xel could almost _feel_ the mental head-bashing on his father's end as the harsh voice of their Corellian competitor bounced around the metal walls of the warehouse below, along with the sound of a repeating blaster rifle opening up on the Trandos. Two fell to Dengar's ruthless assault before the reptiles even had a chance to fire back. Taekis was already running for his life and had rounded a corner in the building. Xander nodded to his son, and they kept moving through the ducts, the older man keeping track of their target's movements by monitoring the amplified sounds of his footsteps. When they were right above him, Xander gave the signal, and they blasted a hole through the floor of their tunnel, free-falling 20 feet before kicking in their jetpacks, three barrels leveled against the cowering Twi'lek as they lowered to the ground.

"Please don't kill me!"

Xel could hear the snarl in Xander's voice when he responded. "Stop sniveling, _hut'uun_." Coward. The ultimate insult among Mandos. "You're not dying today. Xel, cover him." Xander lowered his rifle and marched over to him, slapping a pair of stun cuffs on his wrists before hauling him to his feet. The elder Mando nodded toward a back exit a moment before a plasma bolt smacked into the ground between them.

"Hold it." Dengar approached them cautiously, his rifle leveled against Xel's dual pistols. "That's _my_ bounty."

"Not anymore," Xander responded with no small amount of disdain. "Your antics at the front cost you precious time, and as we all know, time is money. It's over."

Dengar smiled maliciously. "Is it now?"

"Do _not_ test me, hunter. You may be used to hunting the scum and lowlifes of this galaxy from one end to the next, but if you go up against _me_, you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a hunt."

The two master hunters faced off for a very long, tense moment before Xel spoke up. "Is 14K _really_ worth dying over?"

Dengar gave the boy a long look before turning back to his target and the taller Mando. He shrugged and lowered his weapon after a few more seconds. "Fine. You win this time, but Xander? You are no Boba Fett." He and the Mando exchanged a long glaring session. "Just remember that."

Xander sneered. "If you ever run into him again, tell him that Xander Caden says that he owes me a _buy'ce be ne'tra gal_."

Xel was sure Dengar had no idea what that meant, if the warning expression on his face was any indication.

…

The two hunters and their bounty left the warehouse without further incident, getting back to their ship in record time and sending proof of capture to Coronet. Upon takeoff, Xel checked his personal comm. channel and found a holomessage waiting for him.

"Hello there handsome." Maila was standing on the other end wearing the outfit he'd seen her in last. She was leaned against some kind of furniture, but the picture was distorted for everything except her. "I have to say, that was a very _sneaky_ move on your part, back at the club. Very sneaky and very naughty…but I'm not going to complain. All's fair in love and war, and the Twi'lek was getting on my nerves anyway." She gave a seductive smile to the camera. "I have to say, it was quite a thrill, finding out I'd been outsmarted. You were right about me not knowing your kind. Everyone thinks they're just a bunch of trigger-happy armored morons, but you're not, are you?

"A good hunter needs more than just firepower and muscle. It takes wits, cunning…manipulation, even." She smiled at him predatorily. "Thus far, you've proven that you have all three. Well done." She rolled her head in circles several times. "If you're ever on the Smuggler's Moon again, I may have business for you…and pleasure. Since you don't mix the two, we'll have to schedule them for separate days. I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and in case you didn't catch it, the name's Maila. Maila Yar. Be seeing you." Maila blew a single kiss into the camera, and the message ended.

Xel let out a long breath and ran his fingers through his jet-black hair, slumping back onto his bed as exhaustion overtook him, a small smile coming to his face. _First job and I'm already getting propositioned? Thought it took Dad at least 20._ Setting that aside, he gave into the blackness and numb bliss of sleep.

...

Coronet City, Corellia

"That went well."

Xel could only nod in agreement, patting his pockets with purpose to make sure that it was all real. 7000 credits now sat in his possession, the first haul of his first job in the family business.

"There's more where that came from if you keep up the good work."

Xel looked up at his father and smiled as they strode back to the spaceport. "You know I will."

Xander gave his son a friendly pat on the back. "That I do, _ad'ika_. After all, you are your father's son. I've known that since the day you were born, and so did your mother."

Xel's smile vanished behind the helmet's faceplate, and he paused mid-stride for barely a split-second. "You...don't mention her a lot."

The elder Caden let out a long sigh. "No, I don't...but I should. There's so much you should know..." Another sigh. "But not yet."

"That's what you've been saying since I was old enough to ask."

"And I'll keep saying it until you're ready. I promise you, answers _are_ coming. Soon. You believe me, don't you?"

Xel pressed his lips together firmly before nodding. "Of course, _buir_. You always keep your promises."

"And no matter what, I want you to do the same." He bumped the front of his helmet against the upper side of Xel's, the only way to kiss someone in full armor. "_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_, Xel."

The boy smiled and looked down as his father looped an arm around his shoulders, the fatherly action not making him as uncomfortable as before. Xel was no longer fresh meat, no longer new to the family business. He had overheard Xander talking to his adoptive brother Teras over holocom on the trip to Corellia. His father had called him "_mandokarla_"—the right stuff—and that more than anything gave him a feeling of pride and acceptance. So he looped an arm around Xander's shoulders right back.

"_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, buir_."

_I love you too, Dad._

* * *

><p>AN: Welcome to the <em>Beskar'la Aliit<em> (Iron Clan) trilogy, my most ambitious project to date. I got the inspiration for this story several years ago, but never had the impetus and knowledge to start until now. I originally wanted this to be one massive story, but seeing as how it spans an in-universe period of about 15+ years, I decided that between the necessary filler and _massive_ plot arcs, it's virtually impossible to do all that in such a constricted space. I'd eventually feel like I'm not getting anything done, not getting anything finished. I truly hope that you enjoyed this opening chapter and are looking forward to the journey I'm planning to take you on. _K'oyacyi_, as the Mandos would say, and look forward to weekly updates.

P.S.: The primary alternate language I use in this fic is called Mando'a, an actual language created and owned by author Karen Traviss. If you haven't, I would definitely recommend reading her Republic Commando series. If there's anything you don't understand based on either context or direct explanation in my writing, a full record of phrases, vocabulary, and grammar can be found on the Star Wars wiki under the article "Mando'a."

_Oya, ner vode_, and please review and recommend.


	2. Mandalore

AN: For future reference, I know they use metric/SI units in Star Wars, but for the life of me, I can't think in those terms for the long haul. For convention and my sanity's sake, I will be posting in Imperial units. Sorry about the disparity, but I don't feel like doing conversions every time I need to mark a unit down precisely.

As always, please review and recommend.

* * *

><p>The boy smiled and looked down as his father looped an arm around his shoulders, the fatherly action not making him as uncomfortable as before. Xel was no longer fresh meat, no longer new to the family business. He had overheard Xander talking his adoptive brother Teras over holocom on the trip to Corellia. His father had called him "<em>mandokarla<em>"—the right stuff—and that more than anything gave him a feeling of pride and acceptance. So he looped an arm around Xander's shoulders right back.

"_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, buir_."

_I love you too, Dad._

…

2 months later

Mandalore

1 year, 10 months BBY

"Wake up. Oi, Xel! Wakey wakey..."

A low groan came from under a pile of pillows and blankets as the boy in question reluctantly clawed his way from the bottom of a very peaceful sleep to the land of the living.

"_Usen'ye_," he groaned incoherently, just loud enough that he could hear himself, but the person calling after him in the distance couldn't. Something told him Uncle Teras would react less than favorably if he cussed him out this early in the day. Shaking the sleep out of his bones, he shoved the blanket off before yelping at the sudden cold and diving for the fallen item before wrapping himself in it. The musical laughter of his Zabrak uncle reached his ears as the much older man laughed at his reaction. "What happened while I was out?" Xel asked incredulously. "The sun vanish or something?"

Teras chuckled a few more times before offering the boy a hand. "No, you're just used to climate control and not the crisp, clear mornings of _Manda'yaim_."

Xel reluctantly took his hand and let the blanket drop off his shoulders, shivering at the morning air seeping through the door that he was sure Teras left open on purpose. "Cold or no," the boy said soberly, "it's good to be back."

Teras smiled widely and clapped him on the shoulder as he marched off to get dressed. "No arguments there, _ad'ika_."

Two minutes later, the younger Caden stepped out of the 'fresher wearing a pair of blue mechanic pants and a dark gray synthleather jacket with his typical boots. "So why the early wakeup?"

Teras' eyebrows shot up. "Early?" He checked his chrono exaggeratedly. "Half the day's gone already."

Xel's jaw dropped. "What?!" Before his uncle could stop him, he sprinted out the door of their one-story residence into the crisp cool of the morning, scrambling to find the nearest speeder bike they owned. He leapt aboard and gunned the engine, easily going well over 200 mph. He streaked past a cluster of Mandos at an intersection, narrowly missing clipping one of their shoulders as he spun the bike in a spiral. The loud expletives shouted in his direction were drowned out between the roar of the speeder's engine and the loud hammering of his heart in his ears. _Can't _believe_ I'm late…on my first day back!_

The bike whirred to a stop as he kicked in the airbrakes hard, leaping off as soon as it halted and sprinting into the foundry ahead of him. Ducking under a piece of machinery, he spun around a metallurgist hard at work, finding who he was looking for a moment later.

"Elek!" he shouted.

The burly, thick-set man lifted a welding visor off his face and arched an eyebrow at Xel. "To what?"

Xel smirked at his customary joke. _Elek_, Mando'a for "yes." Xel wasn't sure why his parents named him that, because he was certainly no "yes man." "Sorry I'm late. Space lag takes its toll."

Elek nodded in understanding but still had a reprimanding expression on his face. "Forging _beskar_ properly isn't just a trade, _ad'ika_, it's an art. One that takes patience, practice, and, most importantly, discipline."

"I'll set my chrono next time, _alor_."

He smiled and nodded, knowing Xel was good for it. Ever since he had gotten into the bounty hunting business with his father, the young Mando had forged a reputation of excellence. On the few jobs that they managed to lose, the circumstances were such that the results were out of their control, and thus far, that record had not been broken. As they bent over a chunk of raw _beskar_, Elek couldn't help but reflect on the incredibly focused expression on his student's face, one that he had seen on him many times, and not just in his foundry. Like anyone on this planet with half a brain, he could tell that the boy was most definitely his father's son. Whatever he put his mind and soul to, he would get done, no matter how difficult or far-fetched.

…

The Oyu'baat

Keldabe, Mandalore

Xander sat at the counter of the tapcaf, mug of _ne'tra gal_ in his hand, knocking it against one held by Teras and knocking back half its contents in one swig. Both of them cringed for a moment as they let the hard drink settle to the bottom of their stomachs before taking another couple of sips.

"That boy of yours is something, Xan," Teras said after a while. "Driven, loyal. Reminds me a lot of you back in the day."

Xander arched an eyebrow at his brother. "You mean to say that doesn't remind you of who I am _now_?"

Teras chuckled. "Well of course it does, but…it's not…quite as sharp as it used to be with you."

Xander frowned and nursed his drink. "Consequences of leading a life like mine, I'm afraid."

His brother raised an eyebrow. "Care to define that?"

Xander's bright hazel eyes met Teras' light brown ones in a stare. "You know what I mean."

"On the whole, maybe, but…which part exactly are you referring to? The solitude? The double life? The secrets?"

"All of the above and more. I've grown cynical, Teras. Paranoid, even. I don't want my son to grow up with a father like that, but under the circumstances—"

"You can't afford to be otherwise." The Zabrak pursed his lips at Xander's nod. "I understand." He sighed heavily. "I don't envy you, _ner vod_…but I do at the same time. You know me, I'm unmarried, and sterile to boot."

Xander scoffed. "Never stopped Mandos before."

Teras shrugged. "True." He knocked back the rest of his mug as they both drank in silence. His brother was right, and he knew it.

Mandos valued blood relations about as much as race when it came to bringing someone into the fold, and since the dawn of their culture, they had made a point of adopting orphans, strays, and all manner of malcontents who needed guidance and purpose. There was no race among the _Mando'ade_, the children of Mandalore. As long as you adhered to the _Resol'nare_, the "Six Actions" of being a Mandalorian, you were accepted. It still didn't mean that Teras' impotence didn't bite.

"You're probably right," the Zabrak said after a while. "Sooner or later, I'm just gonna have to bite the bolt, find myself a good Mando girl and a kid who needs family. I just…ach, it's useless to mourn what might have been."

Xander sighed heavily, staring into the black liquid in his mug. "Ain't _that_ the truth?" He checked his wrist chrono and let out another sharp breath before downing the last of his drink and standing up, leaving the appropriate creds on the counter. "If you'll excuse me, I have a son to get back to."

Teras raised his mug in salute. "_Ret'urcye mhi_, Xan_._"

"_Ret'urcye mhi_, Teras_._"

…

1 hour later

A loud knock at the door of the relatively primitive residence elicited a sharp hiss of annoyance from the boy working inside.

"Yeah," Xel shouted, "gimme a second!" A slow breath was exhaled as his hands lowered to set a very delicate circuit. "Just a little more," he muttered. The second set of knocks caused him to wince involuntarily and put the circuit down faster than was prescribed, shorting out the whole thing and causing a small explosion. Xel rolled his eyes and huffed over to the door, jerking it open as the person on the other end leaned in to try and bash it down.

Suddenly finding nothing to stop his body, Cerril Ordo fell bodily through the open door, toppling and nearly faceplanting, stopped only by the recovery training he and every other girl and boy on this planet had had since becoming _Mando'ade_. He turned on his side and glared at Xel.

"What?" he asked, his voice agitated.

"Why didn't you come the first time?"

"I was busy," Xel answered simply, shutting the door and walking back into the house, brushing what was left of his failed project into a rather heavy waste bin.

"Tell me you didn't take something from the foundry, cause if you did, my _buir_ is gonna have your—"

"I didn't take anything, Cerril, _ori'haat_. Your dad's paranoia is endearing, really."

"Hey, he didn't ask me to check up on you. This is _my_ concern. Concern for your safety."

"I know my place, Ril. I'm just an apprentice, and believe me when I say I know I've got a long, _long_ way to go."

Ril pursed his lips and nodded slowly before breaking into a small smile and clapping his younger friend on the shoulder. He walked past him over to the waste bin and took a quick look at what Xel had just thrown in there. "What were you workin' on, then?"

"I—it's nothing."

"Well, it's a charred mess right now, but I see your point." He gave Xel a look.

The 13-year-old rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "It was supposed to be a modification to my jetpack. Gimme an extra strong burst on ignition."

"Ah…you _do_ know how dangerous that is, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"No," Xander interrupted, walking in from his study, "he's right, Xel. There are safety systems on our jetpacks for a reason. If you work with a thrust you're not used to and lose control, it could mean any one of sixteen unpredictable outcomes, none of which are good and all of which involve some sort of injury. I appreciate your attempts at optimization, but don't do it again."

Xel sighed and slumped his shoulders as he picked up the waste bin for disposal. "Yes, _buir_."

"Xander," Cerril greeted, holding out his hand, "good to see you again."

"Likewise," the father responded. "How's Elek these days?"

Ril wore a wry smile. "Tired, old, and grumpy." He shrugged. "His words, not mine, but most days, I have to agree."

"He still working on that _beskad_?"

"Yes, and he keeps telling me that it's going to be my coming-of-age gift, since 'old _shabuire_' like him don't have the dexterity for it."

Xander whistled through his teeth. "One hell of a gift, boy. You have any idea how rare those things are?"

"Sabers made of Mandalorian iron?" Ril smirked sarcastically. "No, I had no clue. On another note, he's finally getting out of the house and foundry for a bit, goin' down to the _Oyu'baat_ for a few rounds. You're invited, and so's Xel."

Xander waved him off. "Nah. Already had my fill of drinks for the day, and I don't think I want my son to learn the virtues of getting _haryc b'aalyc_ just yet."

"Right. Well, he could just watch. I'll keep him away from the hard stuff, I promise."

The older Mando smiled gently and took a deep breath, glancing at Xel, who was sitting silently in a doorway out of Cerril's line of sight. "All right. I _suppose_ I can trust you enough for that. Not like there are going to be any Mando girls at this party." Xander picked up the slight gulp on Ril's end and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are there?"

Cerril took in a deep breath, but Xel cut him off. "We'll be careful, _buir_. Trust me, I remember what happened last time. If anything, _I'll_ be the one watching out for _him_."

Xander considered it for a few moments before nodding his assent. Xel gave a small arm-pump of triumph before grabbing his jacket and the hem of Cerril's, practically dragging him out the door. As they trudged along, the older boy's expression was somewhere between a cringe and a pout.

"What?" Xel asked him.

Ril sighed. "I'm never gonna live that night down, am I?"

He grinned. "Nope. Considering that was both the first time you ever got drunk _and_ the first time you'd been beaten senseless by..._her_, I'm surprised you don't have a dozen people snickering at your presence at any given time." His friend's expression darkened.

"Anyone willing to try would quickly find out that I'm not so easy to beat when sober."

Xel laughed and looped an arm around Ril's shoulder. "I'm just teasing, ya know. Trust me, if I weren't your friend, I _definitely_ wouldn't be laughing. Now come on, we've got a party to get to."

…

The Oyu'baat

Keldabe, Mandalore

The tapcaf was already bustling with activity when the two boys got there. Elek had already gotten his party started, and he wasn't the only one. Between a team of mercs from another clan and a fellow _beskar_ forger who had the same idea, the elder Ordo was busy beating them all in a drinking game. Ril beamed with pride as he watched his old man barely sway as he got to his feet to assist a collapsed patron from Clan Bralor. Xel sat at the bar, grinning and laughing with the raucous gang as he admired his teacher's incredible ability to hold his liquor. The man's drink of choice was _tihaar_, a clear, fiery liquor hyper-distilled from fruits, and those in the group who weren't used to drinking it in quite the same quantities as Elek were quickly feeling the consequences.

Ril, for his part, was abstaining, keeping to his word about watching over Xel, although he knew full well that his younger friend didn't need the supervision. He had never been particularly attracted to alcohol, and truth be told, neither was Ril. He only got that wasted because he lost a bet with a kid from Clan Vizsla, something that Xel wisely tried to talk him out of. In short order, Elek, as expected, outdrank anyone and everyone who dared to challenge him to a contest of sobriety. He laughed as he slumped onto a bar stool and tapped the counter for the smiling bartender to hand him a mug of _ne'tra gal_.

"Bunch'a lightweights," he mocked, indicating the passed-out clumps of bodies in various corners and booths of the room.

"Ain't no one can beat my old man," Cerril laughed, clapping his father on the shoulder as he sat down next to him, watching as Xel nursed a virgin drink on his other side.

"Not even mine?" Caden asked. "I've seen Dad knock back that kind of punch and keep standing."

Elek chuckled. "That would be a contest for the ages. In all honesty, I don't know who'd come out on top." His smile faded. "He's certainly had enough practice, life as hard as his."

Xel's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?" Ordinarily, he was not one for manipulating the loose tongues of drunks, but if his father wouldn't give him the answers he wanted, he was going to get them elsewhere.

"Ah, nothin'. Your father wouldn't want me to—"

"I'm here," Xel said sharply, "he's not…and I'm just about out of patience."

Elek looked at him firmly. "It's not my right to tell you, boy, and no amount of prodding will compel me to answer you. Drunk as I may be, I'm still lucid enough to know when I'm being manipulated."

Xel looked away, only half ashamed and more frustrated than anything. "Fair enough," he snarled, knocking back the rest of his drink and rising to his feet.

"Xel," Ril tried.

Caden just waved him off and walked for the door.

…

10 minutes later

The cool night wind whipped through Xel's lengthening hair as he gunned the engine of his speeder bike, his rage and frustration finally at a fever pitch. _I've had it up to _here_ with his secrets!_ He rounded a copse of trees, shooting past another set of bushes as he came upon a massive set of ruins in the distance. Before him stood the once-sparkling capital city of Mandalore during the Clone Wars. The ruins in front of him were all that was left of the reign of Satine Kryze and the "New Mandalorians." Xel scoffed at the thought. _No such thing._ Kryze and her pacifist ilk had brought prosperity to Mandalore, but at the cost of everything that made them who they were. Of course, she had never forced the traditionalists, Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians, to abandon their customs, only somewhat ostracized them.

The woman had had at least enough sense to realize that if she'd ever tried to eradicate the old ways, Mando or not, she'd be assassinated by any one of several thousand traditionalists, Xel's father among them. Xander had actually met her in person once during the war, as a mercenary working for the Grand Army of the Republic while her life was under threat from the Death Watch. She had asked him why he was so willing to defend her, and in short, he told her that as much as he hated what she'd done to their people and culture, he hated what the Death Watch wanted more. Given what he had heard about the organization, Xel had to agree. They were terrorists, plain and simple—cold-blooded murderers, even by Mandalorian standards. Regardless of his efforts, though, the organization eventually took control of Mandalore.

Some time before or after Kryze's death at the hand of Darth Maul, the Death Watch splintered, and those who were reluctant to participate before joined with the True Mandalorians, of which Xander was one. During something of a lull in the Clone Wars, he left his post with the Republic and returned with an army of his comrades, Teras and Elek among them. Together, they absolutely decimated the Death Watch and returned Mandalore to its pre-New Mandalorian state. Those who belonged to the old regime were ignored, neither supported nor attacked, by the restorers. They were, as the Mandos of old, left with the choice to forge a new path or die. The ruins that faced Xel now were all that was left of their urbanized civilization, the stronghold city the last point of attack by the True Mandalorians and the site of their most vicious battle.

Xel zipped through the half-collapsed streets, decreasing his speed to negotiate the tight, cramped corners. On a whim, he swerved onto a thoroughfare that led to the higher ends of the ruined skyline, gaining massive altitude as he observed the city. The evidence of warfare was practically shoved in his face, from pockmarks on the streets to gigantic craters carved into buildings by turbolasers. He shuddered to think of the sheer amount of firepower expended that day, and had a sudden urge to ask his father about it…about a lot of things. But he knew Xander wouldn't answer, not likely anyway.

The boy was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice the rapidly approaching curve until he was less than 400 feet from the edge, and considering he was going over 120 mph, that left him with less than a fourth of a second to respond. A momentary flash of panic flashed through him before his training kicked in and a cold feeling of confidence settled in his system. He immediately slammed on the airbrakes, decelerating to 100 mph by the time his bike went over the edge and leaping backward off it, decreasing his velocity further. Reaching up and back with his left arm, he fired his grappling hook, a device he kept on his person at all times, the metal head digging into the ramp above and anchoring itself as his trajectory arced downward. Waiting until gravity had more pull than his inertia, Xel hit the locking system on his hook, stopping any more cable from deploying.

The snap of the now-200-foot cord occurred with such force that his left arm was immediately dislocated. He roared in pain as his body swung under the elevated thoroughfare, his body the end of a pendulum that slowly swung to a stop. Every fiber in his left arm screamed in pain as he hung there, unable to cut the cable for fear of falling to his death in a 1200-foot drop or pull himself up to safety…but he intended to try the latter. Hissing and huffing in agony, Xel reached up to his grapple gauntlet and hit the "retract" button, causing the device to reel him up to the edge of the road.

He grasped the part of the cable still exposed with his right hand, pulling hard and groaning through clenched teeth at the stabs that ran through his left shoulder as he slowly but surely pulled himself within reach of safety. What he didn't know was that the surface his anchor was attached to was unstable—the duracrete was starting to give. He felt the shifting and crumbling just a split-second before it gave completely, and his right hand reached madly for the edge.

His fingers missed it by inches.

As his eyes widened to their max, a mixture of emotions ran through him. Fear, frustration, and, most powerfully, regret. Regret that his blind search for answers would rob his father of the one good thing he had left. In the half-second between his realization and downward acceleration, acceptance filled him, and he closed his eyes.

Only to open them as a vise-tight grip wrapped around his right wrist. His dark blue eyes widened as they looked upward to the face of his rescuer, or in this case, faceplate.

"I've got you, son."

Xel had never been so happy to see that gray t-visored helmet in his life, either as Xander curled his entire body weight with one arm, pulling him to safety, or as he pulled off his helmet and helped his son to his knees. With relief came a dispelling of adrenaline, and with the lack of adrenaline came the full force of his pain. Though all he released was a series of choppy breaths and small whimpers, Xander could easily tell that his son was in sheer agony. A painkiller syringe went into the boy's dislocated shoulder as the Mando curled an arm around his shaking shoulders, the chemical taking the edge off. Xel's functional arm shook as his hand raised to the edge of his father's chestplate and gripped it tightly, his face pressing against the cold yet reassuring metal as Xander held him close.

Xel stayed there for a moment before breaking into hard, heavy sobs. "_Buir_," he choked.

"Shh," Xander whispered. "I know, Xel. I know. It's going to be all right, son. Everything's going to be all right." He gently ran a gloved hand through Xel's hair and held him close. "I promise…I promise."


	3. Imperial Center

Xel stayed there for a moment before breaking into hard, heavy sobs. "_Buir_," he choked.

"Shh," Xander whispered. "I know, Xel. I know. It's going to be all right, son. Everything's going to be all right." He gently ran a gloved hand through Xel's hair and held him close. "I promise…I promise."

…

1 month later

The Kandosii'tal, deep space

1 year, 9 months BBY

Xel ran from the armory to the cockpit in a matter of five seconds, his helmet clutched under one arm until he got within five feet of the active holoprojector, when it went over his progressively scruffy features.

"Nice of you to join us," the man on the other side said.

"You'll have to excuse him," Xander cut in, "he was doing me a favor."

The man pursed his lips. "Well in that case." He linked his hands behind his back. "Your bounty is a Trandoshan named Brack Anthis." He tapped a key on his computer that projected an image of the target, a Trando with a red crest on the back of his head and sharper teeth than are usual for his kind. "Wanted for multiple counts of murder, extortion, menace, and illicit trafficking. We're not sure why he's left his usual stomping grounds in Hutt space, but now that he has, he's within reach of the law."

"If that's true," Xel interrupted, "and if you don't mind me asking, why aren't _you_ going after him?"

The officer on the other end narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Manhunts for criminals like him aren't one-man jobs, and the Imperial Security Bureau isn't exactly known for its interest in such matters."

"So what's _your_ interest?" Xander asked.

The man was silent for a while. "Let's just say I didn't always hang with spooks and government assassins. I was CSF before the Empire, and as long as I'm still in this business, I can't in good conscience turn a blind eye to fierfeks like this. Since the ISB doesn't share my…proactive attitude, this bounty's off the books."

Xel exchanged a look with his father before the latter spoke. "Understood. Leads?"

"Little to none. Bastard knows how to go to ground. There _is_ one weakness of his you might be able to exploit, though." He hit another key, bringing up a registry of names. "Deathsticks. The Imperial Center underworld has been flooded by a storm of new types and dealers in recent months. In fact, that variety may be the express reason for his pilgrimage." Another manipulation of his computer and the officer sent over a compressed data packet to the Mandos. "I've compiled a list of the most popular dealers in the undercity, along with their usual dives. Hopefully it'll be enough to point you in the right direction, but I know you Mando boys. Help or not, you'll get the job done. Good hunting."

Xander nodded and closed the link, entering the coordinates for Imperial Center, AKA Coruscant, into the ship's nav computer. "Jaller Obrim," he explained to his son. "Friend of mine from Clan Bralor forwarded him to me when he came to them with this Anthis problem."

Xel nodded absently as he stared at his datapad, an image of the Empire's bustling capital world plastered on the front. His heart was going at a thousand beats per minute.

"Xel, you okay?"

"Huh? Mhm. It's just…Imperial Center…I've never been. It's exciting."

Xander sighed as he slumped into the pilot's seat. "Yeah, it's exciting all right. The first few times, anyway."

"Care to explain?" Xel sat next to him and began his pre-jump check.

"Let's just say that I'm glad we're mixing with the scum of that world's undercity, because they're the ones I can tolerate. The scum of the upper city? Not so much."

Xel arched an eyebrow in his helmet. "Politics?"

Xander let out a small growl. "Politics. Politics and _di'kutla auretiise_ no matter where you turn."

Xel worked in silence for a few minutes. "You know something?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad I was born when I was, Empire or not."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause no matter what the _auretiise_ do or say, Mandalorians aren't anything like them. No bureaucracy, no _osik'la _politics…and no civil war." He gave his father a friendly punch in the arm. "You cleaned up real good, _buir_."

Xander smiled behind his faceplate and shook his head slowly. "Wasn't just me, but thanks. Ironically enough, we owe the Jedi a bit of thanks for softening up the Death Watch."

Xel scoffed. "Little good it did them in the end."

Xan's shoulders slumped a bit. "Right."

"You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." Xander reached for the hyperdrive controls and initiated the jump, then rose from his seat after setting a proximity alarm. "Just need a little rest. If the alarm doesn't wake me when we get close, you can find me in my room."

"Yes, _buir_."

As he watched Xander walk away, Xel felt something strange in his gut and going up his spine, something halfway between a tickle and a prod. It was only present for a moment before it vanished, but the feeling left an imprint on his mind, a gut instinct that he should recognize it. Try as he might, though, the answers continued to elude him even as he himself started dozing off.

…

Xander sat in his quarters, door locked, legs crossed as he sat on the cold durasteel floor. He breathed in and out deeply and repeatedly, hyperoxygenating his blood to allow for higher energy and brain functions, then clearing his mind of all distractions and focusing on the one thing he wanted most. After what seemed like hours but was actually minutes, he finally found what he was looking for and smiled as that familiar presence touched his mind.

_I missed you._ Silence answered his thoughts, as it always did, but he had never expected an audible response. A warm feeling of love and affection washed over him, and he drew as much in as he could, reveling in it and returning the feelings as much as he could. His smile broadened and eyes shut as tears of joy and relief came to them. _Oh, my dear…how I've missed you._ The long scar running down his left cheek tickled, and he pressed a hand to it gently. Excitement thrummed through him. _It won't be long now._

…

Imperial Center/Coruscant

"_Buir_,you okay?"

Xander turned to his son and nodded once before returning his gaze to the tapcaf across the street from where they'd parked their speeder. Thus far, Xander had been somewhat underwhelmed by the connections shown by Coruscant's criminals. Seemed that living under the Empire's thumb somewhat discouraged cooperation or collaboration of any sort. Your allies became witnesses, and your friends became liabilities. It was most definitely a rancor eat rancor situation. Sooner or later, though, they would find someone who knew something, and when they did, he or she would talk. If there was one thing the master hunter had learned over the years, it was that one way or another, everyone talks.

"How long has this guy just been sitting here?"

"About an hour."

"How long have _we_ been sitting here?"

"Patience, Xel. Not every hunt can be solved with fists and plasma. The best ones are the jobs where you never have to fire a shot."

"Something tells me a Trando isn't gonna go down without a fight."

"No…and especially not this one."

"What do ya mean?"

"I knew I recognized something about him when Obrim showed us that holo. Take a closer look." He held up the datapad to Xel's visor. "Notice anything?"

Xel squinted in concentration and strained his memory before shaking his head. "Sorry. I got nothin'."

"He was on Nar Shaddaa three months ago. Your first job. I'm surprised you don't remember."

"Wait…he was the gang leader?"

Xander nodded.

"Oh…sorry, _buir_." He was silent a moment. "Guess I was too focused on the target to notice."

Xan's mouth tipped up on one side as he watched color fill his son's face. _Liar._ "Rookie mistake. Always keep your focus on the job, but don't get tunnel vision and blind yourself to everything else. In situations like this, the person or thing you overlooked may be the key to a later hunt, or a potential asset in the future."

"Yes sir."

Another ten minutes passed before the deathstick dealer they were tailing, an Advozse by the name of Kreel Imar, gave a discreet nod to a pair of Weequays at the bar, who fiddled with something inside their jackets before striding over to a Twi'lek dancer currently in the middle of a performance and yanking her off the stage. Both Mandos straightened at the sudden action and watched as they dragged her off to a separate room.

"Did you just see—?"

"Yeah."

"They just—"

"Yeah."

"What do we do?"

Xander pressed his lips together. The target had been a no-show for the last hour, and staking out the dealers was a shot in the dark at best. His instincts told him that Anthis was nowhere near here, so a quick appearance from two Mandos wouldn't hurt them. Nodding to Xel once, he opened the door of the speeder and stepped out, Mandalorian shoulder cloak flapping in the air current from thousands of speeders streaking by at once. As his son followed, he noticed with absent interest the berth that most of the pedestrians gave them as they stalked toward the tapcaf. Half a dozen heads turned in their direction as they entered, and the dealer gaped at them as they strode unopposed into the hallway where they'd dragged off the dancer. Xander's senses led them directly to the door they were looking for, though the intermittent shrieks would have been enough of a beacon.

Xan's left fist clenched as his right hand reached for the MerrSonn DD6 pistol at his hip, years of training and experience guiding his actions as the weapon was drawn fluidly within the space of a half-second, his left fist hitting the release control on the door as he walked through it without breaking his pace and raised the weapon. What he saw on the other end of the door set his blood on fire, and Xel's feral hiss was plain indication that he felt the same way. The Weequays had shackled and collared the girl, but they weren't alone. Two thick-set Nikto bruisers were flanking what looked like a human male, but Xander had seen enough of his kind to know their true nature.

"Let her go," he hissed through his teeth, the barrel of his pistol leveled against the Anzati. "Now."

"This doesn't concern you, Mandalorian," he answered with a smooth voice and a raised eyebrow. "Run along now. Don't you have someone higher priced to kill?"

"At the moment? Nah. Brain-sucking monsters take the _uj_ cake." He pushed the power slider on his pistol to max, a setting that used ten times the power and tibanna gas, but essentially ensured a smoking hole in whatever target he pointed at. "I won't ask again," he said as the gun charged with a whine.

The Anzati seemed to debate the matter for a few moments before nodding to the Weequays. The dancer made a hasty, whimpering retreat from the room only to be stopped by Xel, who gently held her arm until she stopped squirming, then dropped a hundred-cred chip in her open palm.

"You should know there will be repercussions for this, Mandalorian. Do you know who I am? Of course not. Suffice to say that I have powerful friends that owe me various favors. I'm very particular about my meals, and I don't take kindly to having them stolen, so if I were you, I'd look over my shoulder for the foreseeable future, because if you ever see me or any of my associates, we _will_ kill you."

Xander laughed darkly as he lowered his weapon and leaned toward him. "Get in line, _shabuir_."

…

4 hours later

In the space of four hours, the pair had shaken down half the gangsters between levels 1340 and 1313, scouring every dirty nook and cranny for intel on their target. Finally, they had him. A massive series of high-rise loading docks in Coruscant's industrial sector had swiftly risen to the top of their lead pool, and both hunters were quickly becoming more and more focused. As usual, their anxiety, however limited, had risen to a fever pitch, as it always did at the time before a hunt drew to its inevitable climax. The confrontation with the Anzati had left a bitter taste in both their mouths, and despite his supposed indifference to the alien's threat, Xander really didn't know if he wanted that kind of extra heat, especially now that his son was his partner.

As he considered the matter further over the course of their search, though, he realized that Xel had proven more than capable of handling himself. On this planet, though, the center of Imperial power, old fears resurfaced, and he dreaded to think what might happen should he fail in the mission that he'd been given from the boy's birth. Telia had told him plenty about life in the Jedi Order, that inductees were taken from their parents at an early age, often before they had time to truly know them so as to avoid "emotional attachment." The thought of children, of any age, being taken from their rightful caretakers still brought a malicious snarl to his face, and a small, old Mandalorian part of himself was glad the Order as he'd known it had been destroyed.

What exactly made emotion so _shabla_ dangerous? After all this time and numerous attempts at explanation from his wife, he still hadn't gotten a satisfactory answer. She had once told him that with Force-users, emotions became a double-edged sword if they weren't careful. Some, like compassion and gratitude, could be great motivators, and healers in particular were far more likely to draw on them. After all, both were conducive to long life, and the Force was nothing if not life. Bringing that emotional power to bear to heal a person in need was not only practical, but admirable, and Xander admitted that he shared her opinion. Other emotions, however, like rage and hatred, she'd said, blinded even the most conscience-driven men and women, and when combined with the teachings of the Sith, everything that person once held dear was consumed or cast aside by their lust for power.

Despite her caution against using such violent feelings when she first trained him to use his connection, he'd drawn on both on numerous occasions, always with the intent of protecting her or his men, and come out on top and in control. Telia had been shocked at this, but after the first few dozen times it happened, she started to fully realize that the Force was not as black and white as she'd been taught from childhood…and how much she meant to him. The fact that he could go into black rages in the middle of combat, blocking out any form of rationality or restraint in favor of sheer brutality, and come back to give her that caring, blush-prompting smile was a testament to how much self-control Mandalorians truly had. It also told volumes about their ability to compartmentalize, which, of course, was no surprise, given what he'd told her about their culture.

_Mando'ade_ were vicious in war, honorable in victory and defeat alike, and ferociously devoted to family. Their entire culture was a paradox to her, a blend of dark and light if she'd ever seen it. The first trait she had long identified with the Sith and Dark Side of the Force, the second with the Jedi and the Light, and, well, the third was something she had never encountered to the degree Xander spoke of and, much later in their relationship, demonstrated. Telia had encountered boundless shock at the stark contrasts between the near-psychopathic soldier she knew on the battlefield and the impossibly gentle man that had bandaged her injuries or helped her cope with the nightmares that came from the horrors of war.

She wasn't a soldier, and he'd known it. It had been humiliating at first, being so…weak in her own eyes, and considering the rough, battle-hardened reputation shared by all Mandos, she'd expected disapproval or judgement from him when he'd caught her sobbing in a secluded hangar. Instead, he'd sat down next to her, back pressed against the wall like hers was, and popped his helmet off, revealing a frowning, scarred expression of grim understanding. His presence alone seemed to soothe her after a while, and looking back on it, he realized that he'd probably been subconsciously using the Force. When she tried to apologize for her behavior, he'd narrowed his eyes to slits and given her a good scolding for even thinking it appropriate to apologize.

She hadn't broken down on the battlefield, with men depending on her, and he more than most knew how much some things couldn't and shouldn't be suppressed. That, perhaps more than anything, had made his anger burn at any Jedi who touted their vaunted serenity, especially around Telia. Idiots. Truth be told, he'd nearly taken his knife to a "master" who had dared to accost her for showing her anger after a particularly trying week. Instead, he spent a week in the brig for breaking the man's nose, or, at least, he'd been sentenced to a week. Xander was released halfway through it when a critical operation required a skill set that only their resident consultant had, much to the injured Jedi's chagrin.

_Serenity my _shebs_,_ Xander thought at the memory, slowly returning his focus to the present. His son was perched on another corner of their rooftop twenty feet away, his macrobinoculars pressed to the horizontal slit of his helmet. The father pressed his lips together and made a mental note to ask Cerril about integrating a basic macrobinocular function into his helmet's systems. Though he, like any practical Mando, stressed avoiding reliance on fancy tech, it didn't mean he shied away from it, especially if it improved efficiency. Activating such a function in his own helmet, he spied a pair of Klatooinians fingering illegal Tenloss Disruptor Rifles and hissed.

"Xel," he said over comms. "See those two?" He motioned to the snipers.

"Yeah…what the _shab_ are those?"

"Tenloss DXR-6 Disruptor Rifles. Very nasty, very illegal. Rips the target apart at the molecular level, so they're favored by assassins."

"That's gotta hurt. Them first?"

"Read my mind." He turned to Xel and animatedly tapped the knife on his belt. "Keep it quiet."

Xel gave him a curt nod and pulled something off his belt that Xander recognized as a two-directional liquid cable launcher. Aiming one end at the rooftop they were on and the other at the roof of the loading dock, he fired it off, the device making barely more than a puff as the compressed liquid shot out like a bolt from a blaster. A sharp tug at the cable verified the connection was solid, and Xel disconnected the launcher and clipped it back to his belt, motioning his father forward. Xander pulled his _beskar_ knife from his belt and angled the blunt edge down, orienting the knife so the angle between his hand and its blade acted as a hook around the upper edge of the cable. Xel followed suit and hooked in behind him, launching off a moment after his father and grimacing as his less muscular hand started to ache halfway there.

When the snipers came within range, Xander swung his body toward them and released the cable, landing feet-first on one of them with all the grace of a dancer and plunging his knife into the alien's neck. Xel did the same to his partner, albeit a little shakier, before he could charge his weapon halfway. A cursory search of the area revealed no other sentries this side of the building. The pair exchanged a nod before entering the building through its rooftop entrance, blasters coming from their holsters as they made their way through the dark, dirty corridors. Xander's enhanced audio systems fed a constant stream of noise from the building, and he fed a program from Cerril into the helmet's built-in computer that could isolate their target's voice based on the sound clip he'd recorded from Anthis on Nar Shaddaa.

As that ran, Xander motioned for them to split up, the boy taking higher ground as his father descended a level. A group of human and Rodian workers were loading and unloading crates of building supplies, or so it seemed. Legitimate operations didn't usually have snipers with illegal weapons posted on the roof. One of the workers dropped a crate, cracking it open as the foreman bellowed insults at him. A quick activation of his macrobinoculars revealed the slightly smaller inside compared to the appearance of the outside, as well as the stark differences between the material of the crate's internal walls and the rim of the container, all telltale signs of a false panel or panels.

_They're smugglers, and if Anthis is here, I'm pretty sure I know what they're hawking._ He snapped several holos with his helmet, making a note to get his hands on one of those crates. Obrim would appreciate it. Xel's radio-distorted voice came over the comlink, interrupting his thoughts.

"_Buir_."

"Have you got him?"

"No, but there's something else you should see."

"On my way." Xander scrambled to the upper floors within a matter of seconds, using the familiar presence in the back of his mind to lead him to his son. It barely took him a split-second to stare at what Xel had meant. "What…is that?"

"A bunch'a kids, by the looks of it."

"I know, but…what the hell are they doing with them?"

A Twi'lek was busy examining a small boy, no older than ten, Xander would wager, with a very critical eye as two Nikto and a Quarren looked on dispassionately. _Slaves,_ Xander concluded with no small measure of disgust, his old anger at the Jedi Order eclipsed by the sheer loathing he had for the creatures below. The boy was roughly shoved back, and as one of the other children stepped forward to defend him, one of the Nikto raised a hand as if to backhand him. Despite being on the other side of the room, the boy flinched as if he'd actually been struck and moved back to his place. A tumult of emotions warred within the Mando father, hatred and pity foremost among them.

"Not to sound cold, _buir_, but…are we planning on helping every waif and stray we run across?"

Xander pursed his lips. On Coruscant that'd be a death wish, if not for all the dangerous scum they'd have to go through, for the exhaustion of running themselves ragged with such an impossible task. "No, but if something had happened to me when you were younger, _you_ could've been one of those waifs and strays." The two t-visors met gazes. "We help." He could hear the smile in his son's answer.

"Of course."

Turning back to the children and the _hut'uunla_ Twi'lek currently inspecting them like a prized podracer, he snarled and thought for a moment. "We'll help, but one of us needs to find Anthis first." He gave his son a pat on the shoulder. "You stay here. Keep an eye on them. If it seems like they're gonna move the kids, let me know and I'll come running. We can track down Anthis again if he goes to ground. The kids, on the other hand…"

"I got it," Xel acknowledged with a nod.

Xander rose to his feet and sprinted off as silently as was possible in heavy armor. He had searched the massive building for two more minutes before debating another course of action in his head. He pressed his back against a wall and thought hard. He could find Anthis quite easily if he so desired, but the risk… He pressed his lips into a thin, white line. The risks were worth it if they got both their bounty and a second chance for the children about to be sold into slavery. If worse came to worst, he knew they could kill Anthis and book it off the planet within a half hour. At least they would get the "dead" fee.

With a final nod of decision, Xander closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out and opening his mind completely to the Force. The sheer extrasensory overload nearly decked him. He had barely used his Force senses in past years, rarely to the degree he was now, and even then never in such an impossibly dense metropolis. The lives and feelings of a billion sentients at once flooded his consciousness in a tidal wave of contrasts and parallels, hopes and dreams, gripes and grievances. It was utterly overwhelming, and only through sheer force of will was Xander able to rein in his senses and close the floodgate he had so foolishly opened.

When it was done, he instead probed at that gate, widening it crack by crack until he could feel the lives in his immediate area, fuzzy blips in the back of his head that became more and more focused as he concentrated harder. He remembered what Anthis felt like from before, the calculation, the keen intelligence behind his savage eyes and appearance. Like a strainer separating solid from liquid, he laid down mental filters in the Force, peeling away the souls around him layer by layer until he found what he was looking for. _Two floors down…he's not alone._ Not that he had expected him to be.

Xander put a finger to his helmet. "Xel, I've got him."

"'Bout time," his son answered agitatedly. "The Quarren and Twi'lek are talking now, very intently."

"Deal's going down," Xander said with certainty, running back through the corridors and narrowly avoiding being spotted by two of the loaders as he silently returned to Xel's position. The boy was fingering his blasters nervously, the tense poise of his crouch clearly indicating eagerness to get it over with. He laid a hand on Xel's shoulder. "Patience, son. The slavers might want their cargo, but I know their type. They're perfectly satisfied with losing one or two as long as they get the best of the haul."

Xel gave him a horrified look from behind his visor. "You mean they'd—?"

"Use them as human shields?" Xander finished with a great deal of anger. "Yes." His Force Sense still functioning passively to keep track of Anthis, Xander felt something from Xel, in him, a deep, black void. Eyes widening slightly, he drew back slightly as the sheer force of his son's hatred flowed through their bond. _So _that's_ what I feel like when I'm angry. No wonder Telia—_

"Sold!"

The single word sent a universal shudder through the nine kids below.

"We do this quickly and cleanly," Xander told his son. "Once the slavers are dead, I'm trusting you to keep them safe here."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "Where are _you_ going?"

"To take down Anthis. He'll start running the moment he hears blaster fire, and if we can do this without letting our bantha run free, we will."

"Got it."

The boy's Mandalorian APs came out of their holsters as Xander drew his DD6 and thumbed the power dial to medium. "3—2—1—go!"

They both leapt in tandem, Xander landing in a roll and firing as he came up, his son opting to stay high as he jetpacked toward the slavers' exposed side. Xander's pistol fired at a rapid rate as he made full use of the blaster's hair trigger, bare squeezes sending streams of plasma at the enemy. One of the Nikto fell immediately, followed by the Quarren when Xel dropped on top of a large storage crate and gave him a double-tap through the skull. A blaster bolt smacked into the boy's left shoulder, the armor deflecting the energy but the impact knocking him off-balance all the same.

Xander laid down suppressing fire on the Twi'lek as he eyed the remaining Nikto carefully, noting his quick withdrawal behind a smaller storage crate. Recovering quickly, Xel rolled off his crate and drew his knife left-handed as he swung it toward the Nikto's neck. The stronger alien smacked his hand away as he leaned away from the strike, leveling his blaster against the Mandalorian iron before a quick shot from Xel's right-hand pistol fried his. The young Mando immediately holstered the weapon and transferred the knife to his right hand, taking a ready stance as his father looked in with slight trepidation. He knew Xel was a good fighter in close quarters, hell he was a natural, but he wasn't as strong as his father, and only Xander had a chance of hammering his way out of the iron grip of that Nikto if he ever got hold of him.

Intermittent fire from a very irate Twi'lek snapped him out of his worries and back into his Mando mercenary mode, a cold hatred settling into his gut as he returned fire and kicked in his own jetpack. Flying toward the enemy, he was surprised when the alien threw a cable from his belt and wrapped it around his ankle. He realized what was so special about it a second later as electricity coursed through him, his jumpsuit's insulating properties only doing so much to mitigate the pain. Blinking hard to clear away the sudden blur caused by his body hitting the deck, Xander snarled as his opponent ran toward him, firing madly. Holding up his left forearm, he let the _beskar_ take the incoming damage and bull-rushed him, right hand missing the presence of his dropped blaster but moving with years of training and experience nonetheless.

Xander smacked his weapon's barrel aside with his left hand, sending his next shot dangerously close to the terrified children, then brought a right cross on the side of his skull hard. He stumbled back with the blow, aiming a sloppy kick at the family jewels and rebounding instantly when his booted foot met solid Mandalorian iron. _Mandos prepare for every scenario,_ Xander thought with a malicious smirk. Withdrawing quickly, the Twi'lek's vision flickered to his left. Xander's eyes widened as he saw his line of vision, then narrowed as he watched the blaster's barrel raise to match it.

Before he knew what was happening, the alien suddenly found himself clutching at his pained wrist, his blaster clattering to the floor as the enraged Mando strode toward him at a steady pace. Xander grabbed the man by the scruff of his jacket and lifted him off the ground, throwing him bodily against a wall. Hard. The once-confident slaver now stared at him with terrified eyes as he gripped his throat and lifted him off the ground as if he were no heavier than a sheet of flimsi. It was then that he realized the man's hands, no, the _gloves_, were vibrating slightly as he clenched slowly. The alien's neck gave bit by bit as Xander squeezed at a steady rate.

"You are a _worm_, not worthy to lick the dirt off the boots of these _ad'ike_." With no further words, his Mandalorian crushgaunts lived up to their name and crushed his neck like a twig. His grip loosened and dropped him to the ground, and Xander was tempted to spit before coming out of his black rage and realizing he was still in his helmet. Glancing around him and letting out a sharp breath, Xander saw Xel standing over the bloodied corpse of his opponent, and a small swell of pride filled his chest before his Force Sense triggered a mental alarm. Focusing quickly, he felt Anthis bolting for a speeder on a level halfway between them.

Seeming to sense his sudden tension, Xel nodded to him. "Go."

Xander sprinted toward the door of the dock and ran for the speeder at max speed, remembering belatedly that he'd left his DD6 with Xel and cursing under his breath. His powerful legs propelled him two levels down, and he saw Anthis clamber into his speeder a moment before his bodyguards opened fire. His teeth gritted as he gave himself to the Force, sprinting straight for his bounty and triggering his jetpack, flying over them and dropping a thermal detonator among the grounded guards as he went straight for Anthis. The Trandoshan spun in his seat as Xander tackled him off the speeder and flew back into the building, landing hard and rolling to a stop with his quarry.

The Trando recovered his footing a little quicker than Xander and slashed at him with his claws. Using what little leverage he had, Xan rolled away and stood, his right hand unsheathing his knife underhandedly.

"I know you, hunter," Brack snarled.

"Makes two of us. End of the line, Anthis."

Two rows of razor-sharp teeth greeted him as he grinned madly, then charged and chomped at his shoulder. Xander brought his forearm between the Trando's jaws, the unyielding metal breaking a fair few teeth as he bit down hard. Anthis shrieked in pain as he withdrew, Xander taking advantage and slashing a bloody line across his chest. The alien brought a closed fist into the side of Xan's helmet, knocking him back a few steps as he reeled from the sheer force of the impact. The Mando and Trando traded blows before Anthis retreated to another structure, a massive, five-story conveyer line connecting their building with another.

Xander gritted his teeth, both at the pain of the powerful blows the reptilian had delivered to him as well as his hesitation. _I need to stop playing around and finish him off._ Anthis climbed aboard a droid-operated levitating platform transporting crates from one level to the next, taking off into the air and leaving his pursuer behind. Xander activated his jetpack, flying up to a higher conveyor belt and sprinting toward a tower linked to all the belts. He jetted upward another floor and grabbed a pipe for a handhold, bracing his legs against the hard metal it connected to and calling on the Force as Anthis passed below him. A Force Leap propelled him twenty feet through the air, arcing down to land solidly on the platform. Anthis spun toward him, mouth hanging wide open as his mind reeled before focusing on killing him.

In short order, Xander sheathed his knife and engaged him barehanded, trading blows until the Mando caught a powerful fist in his left hand and gave Anthis a proper _kov'nyn_, a Keldabe kiss, the hard metal of his helmet's forehead slamming into the reptilian's scaly face. Anthis hissed in rage and pain, slashing his claws through the shoulder joint of his jumpsuit and digging them in. Warm blood trickled down his arm as he snarled and brought his helmet into the Trando's head once more, kneeing him hard in the lower chest and clenching his left crushgaunt around Anthis' hand, breaking the thick bones inside with relative ease. He shoved him back and laid into his chest and face with a series of powerful, rage-driven blows, breaking scaly skin and bones and driving his target toward the edge step by step before thrust-kicking him within a foot of a deadly drop.

_Dead it is_, Xander decided, sprinting toward him and leaping into the air as he planted two flying kicks on his center mass, one after the other in a staggered drop-kick, launching Anthis off the side and himself backward toward the center of the platform. Recovering his balance, Xander strode to the side of the platform and gazed as Anthis' bloodied form vanished into the bottomless depths of Coruscant's underworld.

…

1 hour later

The Kandosii'tal

Over the last hour, several things had happened. Xel had officially added a half-dozen kills to his record. The kids that had once been in peril of being sold into slavery were delivered to a few contacts of Obrim's, along with some very incriminating and irrefutable evidence of deathstick trafficking linked to several Imperial politicians, either in consumption or corruption. Though he had about as much love for the ISB as the Death Watch, Xander knew Parja Bralor, and he knew she'd never recommend him to anyone who didn't meet his professional and moral standards. Truly, something about the man relieved him enough to just let things go.

Xander flinched and let out a long hiss as Xel gingerly laid an ice pack on his upper right ribs. The series of stitches on his right shoulder stung, but the bacta coating both them and the injury itself was helping.

"_Ad'ika_, make a mental note never to hold back when you're fighting a Trando."

Xel vainly suppressed a smile. "Do as I say, not as I do, eh, _buir_?"

Xander gave him a mock scolding look.

"Face it, Dad. You liked the challenge, even if it's gonna leave you a bruised mess for a month."

Xander frowned. His son's estimate wasn't all that far off. Between the lacerations on his shoulder and the bruises that resulted from Anthis' relentless and feral pounding, he wasn't going to be getting into another fight like that anytime soon. Mandalorian iron or not, Trandoshans were strong enough to go toe-to-toe with Wookiees, depending on how big both they and their opponents were. Under any other circumstances, he'd be insane to take one on that close, especially one in his prime and crazed with bloodlust. At least, that would be the case if he didn't also have another very powerful tool at his disposal, one that, thankfully, had remained a secret thus far.

"So maybe I did. Gotta cut me some slack, Xel." He tested his arms, giving them a few experimental and painful swings before rising from the makeshift medical berth. He gave his son a devilish grin. "This old body starts to feel useless after a while."

Xel played right along, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. "Can I trade you mine, 'cause between the scars and the strength, I'm pretty sure I'd have a line of _cyar'ike_ lining up for my hand in marriage."

Xander looped an arm around his shoulder, walking to the cockpit and trying not to hiss in pain. "Son, I'm surprised you don't already."

Xel quirked a small smirk. "Well...there might be one..."

"Oh?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Nope. Not yet." He shrugged. "Might be nothing."

"Could be everything."

Xel pressed his lips together as they separated and took their respective seats. "Was it that way with you?"

Xander held a breath for a few moments before making a decision. "Well...no, not really. It was...complicated."

Xel nodded slowly and looked away despondently, flicking a few switches as they prepared for takeoff in their usual routine.

"She and I were—are...different. About as different as fire and ice."

The boy instantly froze. He had expected more silence, more secrets and no explanations. Now, for the first time, his father was opening up about the other side of the family, and there was no way he was going to screw this up. "H-How do you mean?"

Xander wore a small smile as his eyes turned wistful, his hands coming to a stop as all other tasks ceased. "When we first met, she was no soldier. She was kind...compassionate...innocent. Had a...light in her eyes that I'd never seen before."

"Do I...look like her?"

Xander quirked a smirk. "No, not at all. In fact, when you were born, she specifically said you took after me."

"Oh."

Xan's smirk widened. "Got her spirit though. And her sense of loyalty...one of the few things we shared—share to a tee."

Xel faltered for words. His father had opened up for the first time in almost 14 years. There were so many things he wanted to ask, wanted to know, and something, a niggling fear in his gut, told him he wouldn't get a second chance. Only one question came to his mind.

"Will I—?"

"Get to meet her? Yes. Someday." Xander smiled widely and locked gazes with his son. "And your brother."

Xel's face was a study in shock.

* * *

><p>AN: For future reference, barring extraordinary circumstances, unless I decide to put this story on hold for some reason, which I don't envision, I'll be releasing around 7:00 PM EST on Thursdays from now on.<p>

Musical Inspirations:

SW: The Old Republic – Scum, the Bounty Hunter: 1:24-3:32—slaver fight to Anthis' death, 3:33-end—Xander's recovery and end of chapter


	4. Foreboding

Xel faltered for words. His father had opened up for the first time in almost 14 years. There were so many things he wanted to ask, wanted to know, and something, a niggling fear in his gut, told him he wouldn't get a second chance. Only one question came to his mind.

"Will I—?"

"Get to meet her? Yes. Someday." Xander smiled widely and locked gazes with his son. "And your brother."

Xel's face was a study in shock.

…

1 hour ago

Imperial Center

The whine of assembly machinery and compressors pervaded the small, black-dominated room as a fresh air filter replaced a used one in a personal respirator. The machinery reassembled the device and integrated it into the mask from where it came as a pale, heavily scarred figure meditated below it. His eyes were closed in focus as currents of Force flitted past and all around him, sometimes passing by untouched, in waves, sometimes bending toward and around him as he exercised his will over them. A familiar feeling of cold rage formed in his gut, where it always was to some degree.

Suddenly, the currents were disrupted, and his closed eyes scrunched even tighter as his burned-off eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Stretching out with the Force, the figure probed for the source of this aberration, his focus and presence flying across the surface of Coruscant and approaching it rapidly until…

His eyes snapped open.

As quickly as it had appeared in his senses, it had vanished. He pondered the meaning of this for a few moments before stretching out once again, and a few minutes later, a slightly shorter man with similarly pale complexion and a bald head strode through the door of the meditation chamber.

"You summoned me, master?" The man's voice was deep and accented with the typical presumptuously superior accent of Imperial Moffs, but an underlying and inherent power.

The massive, now fully-armored figure of Darth Vader rose to its full height and turned toward the man in question, hands curling into loose fists as he looked down at him from his meditation pedestal.

"Indeed I did," his helmet-altered baritone boomed. His head tilted forward slightly as he closed his eyes and focused once more, attempting to find the presence from before and failing. Opening them again, he looked back toward his expectant guest. "I have felt something…a disturbance in the Force, on this very planet. A presence."

The bald man's eyes widened. "A Jedi?"

"Perhaps…perhaps not. From what little I felt before it vanished, it was far too…impure to be that of a true Jedi."

"A rival then. One capable of being a threat?"

Vader shook his head slightly as he turned away and started pacing. "Doubtful on both counts. Regardless, this presence intrigues me. It is unlike anything I have felt before…and that is a rare occurrence." He faced the one-sided mirror that comprised the window of his meditation chamber, hands folded behind his back as he stared out into the metropolis. "I was unable to trace it to its source, but whoever this man is, he was in the industrial district not five minutes ago." He was silent a few moments before turning his head to the right and looking over his shoulder. "Find him."

The other man's silver eyes narrowed slightly and his lips tightened a little, but he bowed low at the waist in submission. "It shall be done, my lord."

…

2 months later

1 year, 7 months BBY

Xander tossed and turned in his bunk, half-unconscious, incapable of shutting off. A spark of light drifted through his vision, behind his closed eyes, piercing his exhausted mind. He focused on the spark, and it grew, continuing to expand until it transformed into an ocean of curving, crystalline formations. The abstract glow sharpened until a fraction of his broken awareness whispered its recognition. _The galaxy_. The image grew brighter and closer until he was whizzing toward it at hyperspeed, toward a very specific and familiar cluster of worlds on the fringe of space.

Before he knew it, he was in-atmosphere on a landing pad overlooking a busy section of a city, and he could see…himself. In armor, helmet and cloak gone, his left arm bent at an odd angle as he limped back out of a doorway onto the empty pad.

"You've lost," his other self hissed through clenched teeth. "He will _never_ be yours!"

When Xander followed his doppelganger's gaze, he saw the doorway completely wreathed in shadow. He could _feel_ the evil emanating from it well before he saw the radioactive yellow eyes burning through the darkness. Slowly and without explanation, the eyes turned to him, locking gazes with his own. A cold, terrifying feeling shot up his spine. Years of experience instantly kicked in as he clawed his way back to consciousness, madly raging against the pursuit of the sharp, crimson _snap-hiss_.

…

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

"_Buir_!"

Xander shot out of bed, his startled son barely backpedaling from the fear and momentum-driven haymaker that answered his anxious call. Heart hammering on his rib cage, Xander clutched his chest as he heaved for breath. Xel stayed still at the door, hands up, as he waited for his father to come out of his nightmare-induced frenzy. Xander's hazel eyes were practically glowing, the blue and green flecks of his irises overshadowing the brown as the adrenaline ran its course.

"Did—I—? What happened?"

Xel looked at his father dubiously. "I'm not sure. It was almost like the ship's artificial gravity malfunctioned."

Xander stared at him wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

"I was reading up our newest bounty and suddenly the datapad felt a lot lighter. That's when I noticed almost every other loose object in the room—no, in the _ship_—start to lift."

Xander looked away as he kept heaving, his sucking breaths slowly turning to even gulps. "That's…strange."

Xel narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. It is." He was silent a while. "You okay?"

Xander nodded slowly, almost uncertainly. "Yeah, I'm fine." He gave Xel a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks." He sat back on his bed hard as Xel pursed his lips uncertainly.

"I'll be in the cockpit if you need me."

Xander gave his withdrawing form a single nod before letting himself fall backward onto the mattress. A heavy exhale left his lips as he closed his eyes only to open them instantly as those same glowing yellow orbs greeted him. _Okay. I'm awake now._

…

_He's hiding something,_ Xel thought as his hands swept over the controls, observing their proximity to Nal Hutta and pulling back the hyperdrive lever. They entered realspace a moment later, the brown, polluted landscape of the Hutt homeworld off in the distance. His father hadn't been acting like himself lately. He was skittish, edgy, constantly looking over his shoulder. For the life of him, Xel couldn't figure out what was up. He hadn't thought Xander had taken the Anzati's threat _that_ seriously.

A heavy, steady tread from behind alerted him to the now fully-armored Xander taking his seat as pilot. Xel gave him a glance when he wasn't looking and noted the hard concentration on his face, as if his work were giving him escape from another more daunting matter.

"How's our fuel?"

Xel raised an eyebrow slightly but schooled his face into a neutral expression. "Not the best. We should have enough to get back to Mandalore, at least, but that all depends on where our client sends us. Speaking of, I've been doing some research on Durga the Hutt and…Dad this is _not _a good guy."

"I'm well aware, but work has been slow lately, and when you're in our line of business, you've gotta take what you can get."

"Including jobs from a crime lord?"

Xander pursed his lips. "Sometimes, yes, and word has it, the pay on this one is good. Very good."

"Which also means it's very dangerous."

Xan shrugged. "Probably. Nothing we can't handle though, yes?"

"Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, they landed on a pad about half a mile from Durga's palace on Hutta. As Xel hit the release for the loading ramp, he got a good, up-close look at just what the atmosphere of the Hutt homeworld was like. He was suddenly very glad for the air filters in his helmet.

"Come on, son. Best not to keep a Hutt waiting, especially not one like Durga."

Another five-minute walk with a lot of turned heads and more than a few fleeing pedestrians, they reached the gigantic building that housed the lord of Hutt kajidic Besadii, essentially one of several crime families run by the bloated species. Two very unattractive Klatooinians flanked a very attractive, green-skinned Twi'lek as the trio approached the hunters.

"My lord Durga has been expecting you."

"Then," Xander spoke, intentionally deepening his voice even more than the helmet's vocabulator did, "let's not keep him waiting."

The effect of his alteration was instant, and an observant onlooker would have seen the girl shiver slightly before forcing her smile and turning about. The Klatooinians flanked the hunters, essentially boxing them in as the party made its way to Durga's throne room.

_These Hutts and their decorations,_ Xel thought in disgust. He averted his eyes and double-checked that the air filters in his helmet were fully active and not letting in any of the atmosphere around him. The planet may have been livable, but considering everything that was being done on it, it might as well have been a toxic world. Two dark blue orbs locked onto their newest patron within a split-second, his worm-like girth easily the most obvious, obnoxious decoration in the room. _And the ugliest._

"Lord Durga," Xander greeted in a polite tone, bowing slightly at the waist.

Xel followed his example.

Durga's massive eyes narrowed slightly as he sized them both up. His left arm motioned for his translator droid, who stepped forward somewhat reluctantly. Xel noted the considerable dents in his right-side plating. A few words of deep-voiced Huttese were thrown in their direction before the droid needlessly translated.

"My lord Durga the Hutt wishes you a good morning and hopes that your trip here was not too much of a hassle."

"Not at all."

"He asks if you would like refreshments."

Xel's nose crinkled, and considering the slight, near-imperceptible tension in his father's body, he could tell Xander was just as disenchanted with the idea.

"Respectfully, sir, we came here to do a job, not have a party."

Durga laughed heartily, the bellowing sound causing Xel to cringe slightly.

"You Mando boys are all the same. Always business, business, business." Durga laughed a few more times. "As you wish. Your target is an Epicanthix named Kell Hammer. It has been brought to my attention that he embezzled a good amount of money out of my accounts, then sold the account information to my competitors in Clan Desilijic. I want you to find and capture him alive."

"Where was he last seen?"

"Here. As soon as I discovered his treachery, I locked down all outgoing traffic from this sector of the planet and made sure our perimeter was secure."

"You sure he didn't slip through the net? Migrate to one of the other clans in time? Your competitor, maybe?"

Durga licked his massive lips and smirked. "Not even Jabba is foolish enough to challenge me over an accountant, and besides, Desilijic's domain is on the other side of the planet. We very wisely keep as far apart as possible."

"Understood. Your territory's massive though. Any more pointers?"

Durga motioned to his major domo, a Zabrak on his right, who brandished a handheld holoprojector and activated it.

"My forces have been doing grid sweeps, but it's impractical for him to hide anywhere except here." The holoprojector zoomed in on a particularly hilly area 20 miles away. "He'll be anywhere within five miles of here."

"If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you send your own men if you're so sure?"

"Because I didn't just hire him for his accounting abilities. He's a decorated assassin and pilot, worked for the Separatists during the war. His string of kills was unbroken."

"Depending on how much you're paying, it's about to be."

Durga smiled widely, a thin stream of spittle running down the side of his face. "Sixty-five."

Both hunters' eyes snapped wide open.

"Sixty…five…thousand?"

Durga nodded slowly.

Xel exchanged a look with his similarly shell-shocked father.

"Done."

"Excellent."

…

2 hours later

"Does something feel a little…off about this to you?"

"Keep listening to your intuition, son. You're not wrong about Hutts, and especially not this one in particular. With a price tag that big, this assassin either isn't working alone or he's a trump card. Essentially, Durga doesn't expect us to survive. Keep your head on a swivel."

Xel nodded as he and his father went back to back momentarily, both of them turning their eyes in every direction. The last hour and a half after reaching Durga's coordinates had been spent combing the uneven landscape for signs of life. Thus far, they'd run into a half dozen native life forms that were none too happy to see them. Xel's armor bore a few scuffs from a Chemilizard who decided to try taking a chunk out of him only to get a durasteel knife to the neck. Xander hadn't gotten off much better, but _beskar_ was more effective than durasteel.

The relatively calm drudgery of their search left both hunters with a lot of time to think, and for the last two months, one topic in particular had plagued Xel's mind. Ever since learning of the existence of not one but two lost family members, the boy had pestered his father about them both. Xander, like his son, had had little to no contact with the other twin or his mother, and even then only through brief Force connections. He left that bit out when he explained the primary reason he was reluctant to go to Coruscant. All Xel knew was that if the Empire discovered the existence of either child, much less both, they would stop at nothing to track down and capture them.

When Xel had asked for a deeper explanation, Xander shut down and tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. Fearing that if he pushed too hard, Xan would clam up for good, Xel had asked about the history between his parents, how they met, how they fell in love, etc. Even as loose-tongued as Xander had been over the following weeks, Xel could tell that he was holding back certain details, and it didn't take a genius to tie them to the Empire. In his spare time, and quite behind his father's back, Xel had done research on the Imperials and their goals, gleaned either through outright statements or the evidence of history. Above all, one thing was glaringly obvious. They didn't take kindly to threats, real or perceived.

When he reached that conclusion, Xel was more confused than ever. How could four people, no matter how experienced or deadly, be a threat to an empire that had thousands of ships and millions of soldiers under its command? The boy had briefly considered interrogating his father until he caved, but dismissed that option as an impossibility. If he had learned anything from the stories of Xander and Telia, his mother, and their adventures during the Clone Wars, it was that they were both as stubborn as Mandalorian iron, and just as tough. He could only hope that the day Xander spoke of, when they would finally be reunited, would come soon. He had a feeling everything would be laid bare when that happened.

_ Speaking of…_

Xander marched over to a large, suspicious-looking piece of metal and toed it carefully, wary of booby traps. He gave his son a nod, and Xel drew his second pistol as well, pointing both barrels at the metal as Xander started to lift it. The sheet went completely upright as both of their eyes widened. A series of rhythmic beeps was the only other sound than the rapid crunching of their boots against the ground as they sprinted away from the armed detpack. It detonated a moment later, sending them both careening forward onto their chests. Groaning at the impact, the hunters scrambled to their feet a moment before blaster fire slashed across Xander's torso.

"_Buir_!"

"I'm fine!" Xander shouted back as he sprinted toward a rocky outcropping with his son in tow. They both slid behind cover a few moments later, Xander taking a moment to inspect the char-marks on his armor. He let out a long hissing breath. "Gotta love _beskar_."

"Any idea where that came from?"

Xander's eyes narrowed behind his helmet as he drew his Blackjack and tapped the side of his helmet with one finger, the antenna pivoting down to hover over his eyeslit. "I've got a few." Inside his helmet, the head of the antenna served as a focusing device to his built-in macrobinoculars, essentially giving him an all-purpose scope. The smog that covered the entirety of the polluted planet's surface made it hard to see, but a quick modification of his visor allowed him view of the infrared spectrum. One blazing red heat signature presented itself, and he smiled as he lined up the sights of his weapon with the target's head.

Only to have another blaster bolt smack into his arm's plating.

"What the hell?!"

The second salvo was coming from somewhere else entirely, and both hunters realized Xander had been right. Hammer wasn't alone, and whoever his partner or partners were, they were crack shots.

"We're sitting ducks," Xander pointed out as he returned suppressing fire into the fog. "I'll provide cover, you get to the ship."

"What? No way! I'm _not_ leaving!"

"No, of course not!" Xander grunted as another bolt smacked his chest. "You're going to fly it and vaporize the target I designate."

"Why not blast 'em both?"

"Because one of them is probably Hammer, and Durga wants him alive."

Xel nodded his acknowledgement as Xander emptied his rifle of tibanna gas, sending streams of fire in several directions. The boy kept running until the sounds of battle got fainter, then kicked in his jetpack to give himself an extra boost. The ship was in sight in seconds, but so were the half-dozen Blazing Claw Pirates trying to break in. Xel's teeth clenched as he drew both pistols and shifted the dials on their sides to full auto. He touched down on the top of the ship, right above two pirates who were standing guard and snapping their weapons in his direction. A torrent of red plasma dropped them before Xel performed a twist-flip forward onto the ground, quite a feat in heavy armor.

His blasters spat out bolts at a rate of four a second each, mowing down three more as the last one ducked behind a landing gear for cover. _Futile_. Xel jetpacked sideways, arcing around his cover rapidly, then plugging him without a second thought before returning to the locked landing ramp. Quickly inputting the proper access code, Xel ascended the ramp and locked it behind him, sprinting for the cockpit and keying the engines on. The _Kandosii'tal_'s repulsor lifts powered up, bringing the ship to a hover as Xel took off toward his father. The ship was tracking a transponder in his suit, but even if it hadn't been, the telltale flashes of green, gold, and red were clear as a beacon from the air.

His hand went to his helmet. "_Buir_, I've got the ship. Mark 'em!"

"Be careful, Xel. This _chakaar's_ got a lot of tech, that detpack, for example."

"You think anything he has can crack _this_ armor?"

"Probably not, but better safe than sorry."

Xel nodded, though he knew his father couldn't see it, and nudged the stick forward, dropping the ship slightly as he readied for his father's instructions.

"Xel, I've got an idea. Fly low."

"Copy."

Mere seconds later, and a human rocket was flying toward the ship, Blackjack and DD6 firing madly at the ground as he landed on top of the ship.

"Fly toward these coordinates," Xander transmitted.

Xel thumbed a flashing button and followed his father's lead, the armored hull of the ship putting a proper barrier between Xander and Hammer's attacks. "There."

"Stand by." Xander leapt off the front of the ship in a death-defying drop, popping his jetpack at the last second and firing a wrist rocket at something Xel couldn't see. A few moments and flurried blaster fire later, and the boy's father spoke again. "Found Hammer!"

"You got him?"

"Not—" he grunted, "—not quite. _Shab_-face is putting up a fight, but I've got him handled. Vape anything else that moves!"

"Roger that," Xel said with some relish, having never been behind the firing controls of this beast. His fingers danced over the pilot's station, removing the safeties on the _Kandosii_'s weapon systems before activating the infrared filters in his helmet. Several heat signatures immediately revealed themselves, and he armed the ship's repeating blaster cannons, sweeping them over the positions of two attackers before the enemy caught on. They never stood a chance. Although the atmosphere of Nal Hutta lent itself to concealment and the rocky terrain to cover, what little protection the numerous crags provided were useless against turbolasers. When the last cluster of heat sigs went dim, he turned back to the complex, as he recognized it, where he'd dropped off Xander.

"_Buir_, how ya doing? Dad?"

A grunt came from the other end of the link. "This—_chakaar's_—tough!"

The distinctive crunch of broken bones was heard, and Xel sorely hoped they didn't belong to his father.

"And he's not alone!"

"You need me there?"

"No!" Shuffling and blaster fire was heard as Xander scrambled to cover. "Hammer's got a ship here, he has an escape plan. The pirates are a distraction, meant to keep us from following, but you're in the air. Find that ship and blast it to pieces before he can take off!"

Xel's jaw dropped as an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle rose out of a large building in the complex. "I think…it's a little late for that."

"_Shab_—I see it."

"What do I do?"

"Lower the ramp and standby." Another jet of light and thrust brought Xander into the ship as he sprinted to the cockpit, where Xel allowed him to sit in the pilot's seat after raising the ramp. "Get on the missile controls."

"What for?"

Xander didn't answer for a few seconds as the ship in front of them took off toward the outer atmosphere, the hunters in close pursuit. "If that shuttle has half the firepower and shielding as a fully militarized one, we'll need the extra punch."

Xel nodded and complied, getting a firm lock on the ship as they approached space. "If we blow him out of the sky, how are we gonna get him alive?" He could hear the smile in his father's response.

"We'll blow him out _gently_."

That, Xel realized as the first lances of energy splashed against their shields, was highly unlikely.

…

_This useless piece of _osik_…_

Xander fired again and again, his turbolasers pounding Hammer's shields as he juked to avoid another incoming salvo. Durga hadn't been kidding when he said Kell was an accomplished pilot.

"Incoming missiles!" Xel shouted.

"Deploy countermeasures!"

A chaff burst shot out of a hatch on the ship's top into the path of two of three missiles, the third staying locked on. Xander's teeth ground together as a quick burst of thrust in combination with a sideways roll took them out of the weapon's path—right into another turbolaser burst.

"Oh, for _shab's_ sake!" Udesii_, Xander, _udesii_._ The Mandalorian reached out to the Force, his hands and entire body briefly going numb as energy flowed through him. His hands flew over the controls, the ship responding to his touch like a bird to the changing wind, its movements smooth and graceful.

"Woah."

Xander barely heard Xel's exhaled whisper, but it brought a smile to his face. _One day, you'll learn to do this too._ The Force spoke to him, and he fired a burst of laser fire into Hammer's left wing at the instant he fired another set of missiles. It was a well-known fact among combat pilots that firing off solid projectiles requires brief deactivation of the ship's particle shields. With the Force, Telia had taken advantage of it and taught Xander to do the same, anticipating his enemy's tactics and firing at just the right time. Hammer's ship lurched sideways as Xander easily dodged the overshooting missile.

"_Osik_."

Xander looked at his son. "What?"

"He's taken all power from weapons and poured them into shields and engines. He's gonna try to jump!"

"Like _shab_ he is." Xander gunned the engines of the _Kandosii_, streaking toward Hammer's vessel and firing all weapons madly. "When I say, fire a pair of missiles directly at his aft section."

"Roger."

Xander's blasters and turbolasers relentlessly hammered Hammer's ship, the shields starting to sputter and die. "Now!"

A pair of projectiles rocketed toward the ship, smacking directly into the armor above the engines.

"_Shab_, I missed…"

"Don't think so," Xander said with a smile, feeling the sudden uncertainty and panic of their fleeing target. A quick scan of the shuttle verified his suspicions. "You hit their hyperdrive core, _ad'ika_. They're stuck in realspace." He grinned and smacked Xel's shoulder. "Well done."

"Uh oh."

Xander felt what he was talking about. The shuttle was coming about—and its weapons were active. A half dozen blaster cannons slammed their contents into the _Kandosii_ at once, one or two rounds cutting through and slashing gaping holes in its ventral armor. A quick roll sent the ship out of immediate danger and on the defensive. To their surprise, the shuttle didn't reengage, instead opting to gun its engines toward Nar Shaddaa.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Xel complained.

"Sadly, no. If he reaches the Smuggler's Moon, he'll go to ground, vanish if he can."

"We can make 'im reappear, though, right?"

Xander pressed his lips together. "Yes, but I'd really rather get this over with quickly."

"Seconded." Another positive missile lock complimented his agreement before Xel fired off a three-round salvo.

Xander scattered blaster fire across the shuttle's waning shields, Hammer juking from one side to the other as they approached Nar Shaddaa together. The heat of reentry screwed with both their targeting systems, but Xander had the Force as his ally, and the next salvo of shots flew true. The shuttle's tailfin broke in half, throwing off the ship's entire flight pattern but allowing it to keep aloft long enough to crash-land on a lengthy high-rise.

"We got him," Xander said with a smile. "Well done, Xel. Let's bag this _chakaar_."

"That sixty-five is startin' to look good."

Xan silently agreed as they landed some distance from the wreck and dismounted, running toward the downed ship with weapons drawn. Blaster fire sent them scattering and rolling in opposite directions before jetting into the air as they returned fire. A stray blaster bolt hit Xel's jetpack and ruptured its left jet. Xander's heart dropped as his son careened toward the edge of the building in a haphazard spiral. Momentarily distracted, he barely cut his pack in time to avoid a headshot and rolled on impact with the rooftop. Xander called on the Force and sprinted toward his son, who was starting to get a handle on the jetpack's issue when two blaster bolts smacked his shoulder and left thigh, sending him into another tailspin.

Rage shot through the Mando's father as he aimed his Blackjack toward the flaming wreck one-handedly, a single shot from the weapon killing the pirate who'd blasted his son before he tossed the rifle aside and reached out with the Force. The spastic flight pattern inexplicably began to stabilize as Xel lowered himself to the ground and turned off the pack, spotting his father looking on in relief. Xel snapped both his pistols toward the wreck and fired off two automatic bursts, suppressing the sniper aiming for his father's exposed jumpsuit. Smiling slightly, Xander refocused and rolled toward his fallen rifle, hefting it and joining his son in his assault.

"Give it up, Hammer!" Xander's only answer was more blaster fire.

A nod to Xel was enough to send them both sprinting for the wreck, rolling behind cover and continuing their firing patterns. This continued another ten seconds before they realized they were the only ones firing. A confused look passed between them when Xel's eyes flickered over to rapid movement and widened.

"_Buir_—"

Xan followed his extended finger—to a stream of leaking fuel snaking toward the fire. "Go!"

Both Mandos sprinted away as fast as possible, Xander popping his jetpack and grabbing his son's shoulders on the way forward as they shot away from the primitive time bomb. The resulting explosion consumed the majority of the ship and its half of the rooftop, the fireball expanding until the faintest trace of heat could be felt through both of their armors, both rolling to a stop after the shockwave smacked into them. They both sprinted back toward the shuttle when it seemed like the danger was over.

"Did we get him?" Xel asked.

Xander knelt in the center of the wreck and stretched out with the Force, looking for the traces of fear and anger that he knew were most often present immediately after a person's death. His eyes snapped open as he scowled. "No." He rose to his feet.

"How can you be sure? There was no way off the roof, and they were backed into a corner."

Xander strode to the edge and looked over the side. Any civilians who hadn't been scared off either by the shootout or crash had fled at the explosion, speeder upon speeder curving away from the smoke and flames. _The speeders._ "The speeders, Xel."

"Of course."

"Coming here wasn't an act of desperation after all. He had a contingency, and contacts on this world." Xander scowled harder and slumped to a crouch. "If he has friends here, powerful friends, as Durga seemed to think, he'll be damn near impossible to find."

"Only if we can't find a few friends of our own."

Xander looked at him and furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Uh..." Xel scratched the back of his helmet. "You remember that thing, two months ago...where I said it might it be nothing?"

Xander's eyes narrowed as he nodded.

"Well, she's here, on Nar Shaddaa." He stood a little straighter and spoke firmly. "And I think she can help."

* * *

><p>AN: Since I'll be out for the majority of today, I decided to release this chapter a bit early.<p> 


	5. Sacrifice

"Coming here wasn't an act of desperation after all. He had a contingency, and contacts on this world." Xander scowled harder and slumped to a crouch. "If he has friends here, powerful friends, as Durga seemed to think, he'll be damn near impossible to find."

"Only if we can't find a few friends of our own."

Xander looked at him and furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Uh..." Xel scratched the back of his helmet. "You remember that thing, two months ago...where I said it might it be nothing?"

Xander's eyes narrowed as he nodded.

"Well, she's here, on Nar Shaddaa." He stood a little straighter and spoke firmly. "And I think she can help."

…

5 minutes later

Nar Shaddaa

1 year, 7 months BBY

Smoke rose from a large rectangular high-rise in the crowded cityscape of the Smuggler's Moon as a large ship took off from that same location, its occupants unaware they were being watched. Two keen silver eyes narrowed as they shot across the sky and out of view. A hand reached down and grabbed a holocommunicator, activating it a moment later and waiting for an answer at the other end. The device emitted a blue hologram, the imposing figure of Darth Vader on the other end.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

The man holding the communicator pursed his lips tightly. "A craft matching one that left Coruscant two months ago has landed on Nar Shaddaa. Its occupants are two Mandalorian bounty hunters currently on a job."

"What concern of mine is this?"

The man bit his tongue hard to keep from scowling at his master's tone. "Some time ago, I discovered a direct connection between that ship, the _Kandosii'tal_, and the presence you commissioned me to find. I believe that one of the vessel's owners is the person you seek." He could feel the narrowed eyes behind Vader's mask.

"How did you come by this information?"

"A contact of mine, an Anzati, was coerced on Coruscant the night of the disturbance—by two Mandalorians. The same pair was seen blasting through a loading dock in the industrial sector later that night. When I learned of this meeting, I had the last piece of the puzzle."

"And yet they evaded you for two months," Vader judged.

The man turned away to avoid showing his displeasure to Vader. "Yes," he said quietly. "I sense you were right about our target. He must be strong in the Force to have eluded me."

"Indeed."

He couldn't help but detect the sarcasm in Vader's tone. "That same contact sent me a data packet when he detected that ship in Hutt-controlled space, and I traveled there with all speed. I have now confirmed both the identity and location of the targets, master."

The Dark Lord was silent a few moments, arms crossed, before nodding. "Well done, my apprentice."

"What must I do now?"

"Nothing. Only ensure that they do not leave that world."

The man's brows furrowed deeply. "May I ask why?" Vader's masked glare closed his throat shut.

"I will see to this matter personally."

"Yes, my lord."

…

10 minutes later

Xel's heart was beating out a furious rhythm as his father piloted their speeder through the busy air lanes.

"So," Xander started, "who exactly is this girl?"

Xel's face heated slight. "Uh…it's a bit of a long story."

"Gonna be some time 'til we reach our destination, so."

Xel stayed silent for a few seconds. "I met her here a few months back. We haven't really spoken since, but she left an open invitation."

Xander's eyebrows rose. "For what exactly?"

The boy gulped. "Um…"

"Oh. After one day? Really?"

Xel laughed nervously. "Like I said, could be nothing. Nothing special, anyway."

Xan nodded slowly. "So what's her name?"

The boy gulped.

"Xel? Who is she?"

Xel sighed and closed his eyes. "Maila Yar."

Xander stared at him before remembering to keep his eyes on the sky. "Maila Yar, as in _the_ Maila Yar, as in the woman who tipped off your first bounty."

"Yeah," he responded quietly, looking away.

Xan was dumbstruck. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think we can trust her?"

"Because…because she said she'd do me a favor."

Xander looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Why?"

Xel let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, the day I bagged my first bounty was the day she sent me a holomessage. She congratulated me on the tracker move and actually _thanked_ me for taking the Twi'lek off her hands."

"And?"

"And she said she'd do me a favor if I ever came back to Nar Shaddaa."

"She actually said that?"

"Not…in those words, no."

"What words exactly then?"

Xel's face reddened more with the memory. "I think it was something like, 'if you're ever on the Smuggler's Moon again, I'll have business for you.'"

"So not a favor exactly. More like a job."

"Yeah, but I'm sure she won't blow us off."

"And why's that? She's a businesswoman. What's in it for her?"

Xel clenched his teeth.

"Hadn't thought that far?"

"No," he admitted. "But I'll think of something."

Xander pressed his lips into a thin line, turning toward a contoured high-rise and pulling to a stop on an attached landing pad. Slipping both their helmets on, the two Mandos exited their vehicle, giving the appropriate credit fee to a nearby valet before striding toward the entrance. They were greeted by two Zabrak guards and a human receptionist just inside.

"Good afternoon, sirs," she said politely, her smile looking a little forced. "What can I do for you?"

Xander opened his mouth to speak before remembering this was Xel's idea and, by extension, his responsibility.

"I need to speak to Maila Yar," the boy said, his helmet deepening his voice.

"May I ask what about?"

"Tell her I'm taking her up on her offer, if it's still available. She'll know what I mean."

"Of course, sir."

A minute or two of waiting and a short conversation in Huttese, and the receptionist smiled at them again. "Head right in," she said, motioning to a pair of double-doors to her left.

"Thank you." Xel strode toward the doors, but stopped about two feet away. "_Buir_, I think it might be best if you stayed here."

Xander considered this for a moment before nodding. "She'll only know you anyway."

Xel nodded in thanks and strode in, the doors parting as he approached to reveal a large, semi-circular office with red curtains covering the majority of the windows, light streaming through three central panes and lighting up a door-facing desk on the far side of the room. The woman seated there was facing away from him, seemingly observing the flow of traffic outside. Smiling, she turned in her seat and locked her gaze on the approaching Mando.

"Xel Caden," she said sweetly, her voice lilting softly as she rose from her chair. The Zeltron strode around her desk, right toward her guest, as her hips swayed slightly, her form-fitting dress showing off her curves in all the right places. Her smile widened slightly at Xel's near-imperceptible intake of breath. "It's been quite a while."

"I've…been busy," he replied apologetically.

Maila fluttered her lashes. "Oh I know. See, I've done my best to keep track of you, and I must say, I'm quite impressed."

Xel cleared his throat, infinitely grateful she couldn't see how badly he was blushing. "I do my best."

She giggled slightly and took his arm. "Please, sit. Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you." He sat slowly, keeping his helmet on, the _buy'ce_ his only protection against this woman's charms.

"So," she started, taking another seat across from him, "what brings you to my humble abode?"

Xel raised an eyebrow at the word "humble." "A bounty, actually. Since you, uh, have a knack for knowing things on this world, I thought you might have some information."

"Ah."

Xel could tell she was a little miffed by the way her smile dampened slightly. "You did say business _or_ pleasure," he reminded her.

"So I did." Her entire expression changed, suddenly shifting from seductive to businesslike.

Xel knew it took some effort. "The man we're looking for, his name's Kell Hammer."

With that, her smile vanished instantly, replaced by widened eyes and a slightly open mouth. "Whatever you're being paid, I guarantee it's not enough."

"Well we've tangled with him twice already, and we're okay."

Her brows knitted. "We?"

He let out a long breath, mentally kicking himself. "Yes, my partner and I. I thought you'd been keeping track of me."

A small smirk graced her features. "I was. Just making sure you were paying attention."

He rolled his eyes. _Women._ "Look, do you know anything or not? It's just a matter of time before he finds a way offworld, and we'd rather not chase him across the galaxy."

She pressed her lips together. "Not to be crude, but…what's in this for me?"

Xel mentally cursed, thinking for a while. "Five percent of our bounty."

Maila raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"Fine, ten."

"Finder's fees are on average thirty percent. Anything lower is a friends and family discount, and I don't quite think we're there yet."

Xel heaved a sigh. "Twenty then."

"Thirty."

"Twenty-one."

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-five."

She smirked. "Sold." Maila leaned back in her seat. "What did that earn me exactly?"

Xel did a quick calculation in his head. "Given that we fulfill all aspects of our client's demands, over 16K."

She raised an eyebrow. "Who's paying that kind of cash?"

"Durga," Xel answered with no small amount of disgust.

Her tight-lipped smile confirmed that she shared his opinion. "I see." She was silent a long time, hands in her lap as she averted her gaze.

"Can you help me?"

Her ice-blue eyes flickered to his eyeslit, and she smiled sadly. "Yes, but I can guarantee that you won't like what you find."

"On hunts with stakes this high, I rarely do." He rose to his feet as she did the same.

Maila strode behind her desk, her features forming a frown of concentration as she accessed her computer. "Does this have anything to do with that crashed shuttle?"

Xel struck a pose, hands on his holsters as a grin came to his masked face. "Maybe."

The woman pressed a final key, deploying a data disc from the terminal and handing it to him. "That's a list of Hammer's known contacts on Nar Shaddaa. Since he visits here frequently, I keep tabs on him."

"Why him in particular?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I mind any particularly dangerous individuals hanging about in my territory."

Xel couldn't help but feel uneasy at the look she gave him. "I see." He waved the disc. "Thank you."

"Thank me with that thirty percent."

"Twenty-five," he corrected. "I have it on record."

She positively beamed at him. "Smart man." Her smile faded as he turned for the door. "Xel."

He turned his head toward her, noting her unease and tension.

"Be careful. Hammer is not someone to trifle with."

"I never trifle, Maila," he assured her, "but thank you for your concern."

…

Xander was pacing outside Maila's office. _They're taking a while._ Although it had been infinitely amusing to feel his son's embarrassment and distress during their conversation, the cold fear that had come from the woman just now unsettled him. Did she know something about Hammer that they didn't?

Xel exited the room, interrupting his thoughts and holding up a data disc. "Got the goods."

"How much did it cost us?"

"Twenty-five percent."

"Ah…_shab_. Price of doing business, I guess."

"And now we know where to look."

Five minutes later and they were sitting back in their speeder, sifting through over a dozen names that were tied to their target.

"So…we pick a side of the list and start knockin' heads?"

Xander pursed his lips. He knew a much less tedious way of narrowing things down, but was he ready to let his son know what he could do? He deserved to know, surely, but would it be too much of a shock? Was it time he learned of his heritage, of his potential?

"_Buir_?"

"Sorry. Just thinking." _Oh Telia…I wish you were here._ He stretched out to the Force and closed his eyes, the action invisible behind his faceplate as he dragged his index across the list. A mental nudge stopped his hand briefly, and his eyes flickered open for a moment to note the name before moving on. No one else gave him that feeling. _Koris…that's all it says._ He knew it would be suspicious if he picked a seemingly random name off the list and it just so happened to be right, so instead, he thought of a slightly more time-consuming approach. "Hammer's going to be looking for a new ride, right?"

"Right."

"So, let's see about this ship dealer." He pointed to a name two away from Koris'. "And then just go down the list, 'cause there's nothing else coming to mind."

"Good thinking. Can I drive?"

Xander laid the datapad aside and scoffed as he gripped the controls and brought the speeder into a gentle climb.

…

1 hour later

As expected, the two people they interrogated first yielded no results, and now they were coming on the third. Xander seemed much tenser than usual as they approached a tall apartment complex. Xel's blasters came out of their holsters as they strode away from their ship, having landed on a pad directly connected to their target. The two Mandos strode through the door, the dusk sunlight casting a red sheen over the immediate entrance and illuminating a poorly lit hallway. Xan gave his son a nod, and the boy pressed himself to a wall while his father took the other, sweeping toward the room where they would find this Koris. Or, so they hoped.

Xander focused in the Force, sweeping the area for signs of life. By and large, this building was abandoned, left to decay by its few tenants, most of whom were either poor or vagrants. There was one, though, one mind who was not steeped in despair, but frustration and a small amount of anxiety. Xander motioned to Xel, who followed him closely as they approached the door. Xan tapped his helmet, activating its infrared function, only to find the door and walls insulated, either a precaution by the current tenant or an improvised climate control system to compensate for the building's shortcomings. Seeing that Xel was having the same difficulty, Xander motioned for him to stack up, drawing his DD6 and making a finger countdown. The door was kicked in by them both simultaneously, and barely a split-second later, blaster bolts were flying from six different sources.

Both hunters dove for cover as Hammer and three others laid down suppressing fire. The assassin was withdrawing toward the window, his men giving him sufficient cover. Xander motioned to Xel, then pointed at his own gauntlet and the enemy. The boy gave him a battle sign.

_"You sure?"_

Xander gave him a single nod, drawing his Blackjack and laying down automatic fire as his son rose from cover. Xel raised his left arm and clenched his left index, the motion firing off a wrist rocket right into the middle of their attackers. Furniture and bodies went flying in a storm of flame and smoke, but as the Mandos approached, they only noted three bodies. Xan reached out with the Force, instantly tagging Kell, and stormed toward the open window, stepping out onto a narrow walkway. Xel followed as closely and quickly as he could.

"There!"

The boy followed his father's finger and nodded before triggering his repaired jetpack, both of them shooting toward their fleeing bounty. They dropped into a dive, cutting their thrust for a moment before arcing back up onto the catwalk their target was fleeing across. He rolled under a grappling hook shot his way and spun as he rose to a crouch, drawing two pistols and firing at them both. At that distance, Xel would have thought that he'd never land a hit, but surely enough, he got smacked in the faceplate by a random blaster bolt.

"Xel, you all right?!"

"Fine! This guy's really startin' to piss me off!"

_Seconded,_ Xander thought as he fired his DD6 at Hammer's legs. The assassin had his reputation for a reason, though, and deftly avoided their shots, ducking into a storefront and eliciting several screams as he ran through. The Mandalorians were close on his heels. When he came out the other side, relief struck him as a speeder descended to his level, the side door opening to reveal a half-dozen Blazing Claw Pirates toting heavy blasters. A hailstorm of blaster fire cut across the catwalk, both pursuers diving for what limited cover they could get. It was a matter of seconds before that started getting melted.

Xel raised his right arm and flexed his index, sending another rocket toward the speeder's engine section. It detonated brilliantly, sending the vehicle into a tailspin as Kell dove away from the falling wreck. When it finally ground to a halt on the walkway, two of the men inside kicked the door open, giving Hammer the cover he needed to run.

"Dad, get after him! I got this!"

Xander pursed his lips and nodded, tossing a small thermal detonator at the wreck before jetpacking off toward Hammer.

…

Xel exchanged more blaster fire with the enemy, hating the fact that he always managed to be left behind to take out the trash. _It _was_ your idea,_ he reminded himself bitterly. A jetpack burst took him toward the remaining cluster of three pirates, and an automatic burst from his pistols put one down before he flew behind a building. Hovering in place for a moment, he launched his grappling hook into the side of his cover, diagonally below and toward the enemy. Smirking, he cut his jetpack as he swung in a pendulum motion, his movement too rapid for them to track as he came back into view.

His right-hand pistol fired madly, cutting smoking holes into the last two pirates before releasing the cable and jetpacking to the ground. Suddenly, a feeling of sharp dread smacked into him, his mind's eye flashing to his armored father, who looked like he was in a darkened warehouse. His head snapped toward a building in the distance, and he fell into a breakneck sprint, his jetpack activating and sending him rocketing toward it. He burst through a window on the second floor, revealing an inside exactly like the vision he'd had just a few moments ago. Before he could consider what that could mean, he heard Xander's agonized scream and looked around feverishly.

He spotted him a moment later, and his heart took a sharp drop as he saw the bloody knife driven between his armor plates. Before he knew what was happening, his pistols went into their holsters and his body flew toward the pair. A furious roar came from his helmet's vocabulator as he slammed into Hammer, pinning him to the ground until he was tossed off somewhat sluggishly. Hammer grabbed his knife from where it had fallen, the short vibroblade humming slightly as Xel drew his own. Xander had collapsed to his knees and was pressing his palm against his injury, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Burning hot rage filled him, and his right hand clenched around the durasteel knife's hilt as the assassin charged. Everything slowed to a stop as adrenaline filled his veins, his knife's blade skidding against Kell's as he reflected the blow, driving a hard hook into the right side of his face. He followed with a sharp roundhouse kick to his exposed gut, which, to both their surprise, knocked him back three feet. Xel felt more than angry, he was blacked out. _How dare you…how _dare_ you!_ Kell actually recoiled in fear before finding his nerve again and moving back in. Xel slashed several times, both of them parrying each other's blows as they dueled, the boy forgetting all about the fact that they needed him alive.

Everything blurred together as their fight dragged out, the boy somewhat shocked at how well he was doing against his _much_ more experienced opponent. His durasteel knife clattered to the floor, but he didn't care. Xel battered Kell's face and torso, his gauntlets deflecting the vibroblade again and again as he slowly backed him into a corner. His success was a deception. Hammer deflected a punch with his knife-hand before dropping the blade into his other hand, the tip shooting toward Xel's exposed right shoulder…

Only to stop when the boy's lightning-fast left hand grabbed his wrist, his grip tighter than he ever thought possible as he squeezed it until something cracked. The Epicanthix shrieked in pain as his knife clattered to the floor, Xel leveling everything against him, fists, knees, boots, and finally, a head-butt. Hammer fell backward, sluggishly recovering his balance as his opponent kept advancing. There were three Mandalorians facing him, all blurry, all looking pissed beyond reason.

He never stood a chance.

Two of his lower ribs were broken when Xel used his right hand to add force to a left elbow, the boy using his Mandalorian iron to its full extent as he took Kell apart piece by piece. A bruised, bleeding mess, Hammer was limping away in seconds. A grappling hook went through his left hand when he tried to run, and he shrieked as Xel yanked him to the ground, pinning him there with his armored forearm, the gauntlet cutting off his oxygen supply as he slowly applied more and more pressure.

"Xel, no!"

His father's voice, firm and authoritative, stopped him in his tracks, and as he looked down at his near-unrecognizable opponent, Xel took a sharp intake of breath. He recoiled, releasing him and stepping back several paces.

"_Buir_...I—I didn't mean to—"

"Yes you did."

A firm hand on Xel's shoulder alerted him to his father's approach and gave him a rough estimate of how well he was doing. _Injured...walking...not critical._ He sighed heavily in relief.

"It's all right, son."

He let out a ragged breath and looked at his blood-stained gloves, then at their target, who had passed out in pain. "We should...get some binders on 'im. And...get you some medical attention."

Xander gave him a small nod, his free hand pressed to his gut. "You take care of him, I'll take care of me."

Xel nodded numbly, taking another long look at his hands before reaching for the stun-cuffs in his belt.

...

2 minutes earlier

Imperial Dreadnought in orbit over Nar Shaddaa

All eyes on the bridge of the _Judicator_ turned toward the new arrival, then quickly averted as they all went back to what they were doing as fast as possible. The captain was about to berate them when he too saw what they worked so hard to avoid and wished he could do the same. His stance sharpened and posture stiffened to avoid showing how badly he wanted to shake.

"Lord Vader. Welcome aboard, sir."

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Captain. I'm not here to inspect your forces."

"Well then, my lord, what can I do for you?"

"Wait."

"Wait, sir?"

Vader strode past him without a word and stood in front of the bridge's observation viewport, his gaze directed at the planet below. A sharp tug in the Dark Lord's mind got his attention, and his eyes closed instantly in concentration as he tugged back, following it to the planet below. Whoever this entity was, he would not escape him this time. A small malevolent smile came to his face. "Ready a platoon of your finest men, Captain. I'm going to the surface."

"Y-Yes, milord."

...

30 minutes later

The Kandosii'tal, Nar Shaddaa

Xel had just left the ship after touching down on Maila's personal landing pad, the trip over and a few minutes after dedicated to getting Xander stabilized. Of course, he couldn't rightly tell his son that his injuries would be healed in a matter of hours. After all, he still didn't know about the Force. _But he used it...on Hammer. And I didn't._ Xander's lips pressed together tightly. He'd put Xel at risk, not only with a professional assassin, but with a force of nature he had no inkling of and no idea how to control. The very first time he had drawn on the Force directly, and Xel had done so out of anger...no, out of rage.

_At least when I first did that, I was already a man well on in years._ And he'd had Telia to help guide him. _He'll have _me_ to guide him,_ Xander promised himself. _At least for now._ His eyes closed as he opened himself to the Force, smiling gently as he felt his son's excitement. The mirth vanished as that excitement turned to surprise and then fear. His hazel eyes shot open and he leapt from the medical berth, his injuries raw but not in danger of reopening thanks to his timely healing trance. The landing ramp lowered at his touch and he was sprinting out onto the pad when he felt it.

_No..._ His eyes widened in sudden terror, and he looked around himself, noticing his environment for the first time. Xan immediately snapped himself back to reality and ran toward the building. His son needed him, and as his wife had once said, the future was always in motion. _Nothing is written in stone._

...

"Where's Maila?"

The imposing, black-armored figure in front of Xel couldn't be less concerned about the two blasters leveled against him. "The lady of the house? I convinced her to take a leave of absence." He slowly strode toward Xel, motioning to the slightly blackened walls and carbon scoring around them.

"Don't take another step."

Vader smiled behind his mask, but acquiesced. "You know who I am."

"Yes," he hissed. "Do I particularly care? No. What have you done with her?"

"I'm sure she will be just fine. You, however, will not unless you lower those weapons."

"You're unarmed."

"That you can see."

Xel clenched his teeth. "Where—is—she?"

Finally deciding enough was enough, Vader barely waved his hand, sending both blasters clattering to the floor.

_Well that's...unfortunate._ Xel and the Sith Lord in front of him stared each other down for a few moments, the former's hands clenching into fists.

"Xel, run!"

The boy and his enemy whirled toward the source of the voice. Xel dove for his blasters. Vader strode toward them both. Xander stepped between them. Vader stopped in his tracks.

"I see now," he said after a long while, looking at Xander, then Xel. "A son."

A rush of fear went through them both, Xel in ignorance, Xander in knowledge. _What is he talking about?_

"Yes," Xander answered him, "_my_ son." He outstretched his hand and, to Xel's shock, his son's knife flew to his open, gloveless palm. "Xel, get back to the ship."

"What?!"

"Go, I'm right behind you."

Xel reluctantly obeyed, and they sprinted out the door one after the other only to be greeted by a half-dozen Imperial stormtroopers.

"There is no escape."

_Like hell._ Xel triggered his jetpack, shooting into the air to fire off two wrist rockets. Half the squad managed to get to safety, but three of them were either blown apart or knocked off the side of the landing pad.

...

Xander made for the last three, but an all-too-familiar sound from behind stopped him in his tracks.

_Snap-hiss._

Xander slowly turned toward Vader, who now held a crimson lightsaber in his right hand, and tried hard not to gulp.

"The boy's power must be cultivated."

The Mando snarled and faced him. "Yes, but not by you." They faced off for a few moments, Xander absently noting the blaster fire behind him as Xel engaged the enemy.

"You cannot win."

"I don't need to." And with that, Xander cut all the shackles, all the mental restraints, and completely opened himself to the Force. Power, pure and unadulterated, rushed through him, and he smiled malevolently at the strange but familiar feeling. _It's been far too long since I've cut loose._ His eyes opened and glared at Vader before he threw his knife. Adding power to his throw with the Force, the knife shot toward the Sith, who sidestepped it faster than he thought possible. The weapon returned to his hand a moment later as Vader closed the distance, lunging forward in a stab. Xander juked around the strike, but the master duelist anticipated the move and spun counterclockwise, slashing in a horizontal arc that would have bisected him had he not ducked.

Xan brought the knife upward in a stab, but Vader's left hand grabbed his wrist and started to squeeze. Not used to being on the receiving end of such a crushing grip, Xander released the knife in pain before channeling the Force into his left arm and delivering a powerful blow to Vader's helmet. The Dark Lord stumbled back a step, swinging his saber upward as his opponent sidestepped and rolled away, using his superior dexterity and mobility to his advantage. Xander focused and held his hands close at his side, channeling his frustration and anger into a Force Blast that was released a moment later.

His jaw dropped a little when Darth Vader not only wasn't affected, but reflected the strike back at him in a wave. Xander Force Jumped over the worst of it, but was still buffeted and thrown off-balance. He recovered in a rough roll on the hull of the platform, spinning to face his enemy and charging toward him…or so Vader thought. When Xan was within striking distance, the Dark Lord slashed diagonally upward and right, but his opponent leapt into the air at that exact moment, twisting his body so that the saber skidded across his shin plate as he flipped over Vader. Once again supremely glad for _beskar_, Xander sprinted for the _Kandosii'tal_.

"Xel, let's go!"

The boy flew over from where he was pinning down two stormtroopers to ascend the ship's ramp with his father in tow. The craft powered up and started to lift off mere seconds later, jolting to a stop despite their best efforts. Confused, Xander desperately looked for the problem until he reached out with the Force and _felt_ it. He looked at his son, heart sinking as the truth finally dawned. A few keystrokes on the dashboard later, and Xander rose from his seat, his expression solemn, retrieving his jetpack and strapping it on.

"Dad, where are you going?!"

He lowered the ramp and stood on the edge as Xel finally realized what he was doing.

"_Buir_, no!"

"Forgive me."

The hatch between the ramp and cockpit slammed shut, magnetically sealed on a four-hour timer as the ship automatically adopted a programmed flight pattern. Xander looked down at the pad, spotting Darth Vader holding the ship in place with the Force, both hands outstretched. His upper lip curled into a snarl, and he encased his body in a cocoon of kinetic energy, diving from the ramp to trigger his jetpack and slam shoulder-first into the Darth. His saber went flying as they both rolled to a stop inside the building, Xander looking briefly to see the _Kandosii_ take off and leave the atmosphere.

…

"_Buir! Buir!"_

Xel was slamming on the rear hatch, looking out of the small viewport to see his father and Vader vanish in a tangle of limbs, the ship starting to increase its altitude. "No. No-no-no…" He rushed to the cockpit and slammed on the stick, on the controls, on anything and everything to undo whatever his father did to the navigational systems. "No, _no_! Nothing's working!" A few flurried, heavy breaths escaped him before he rushed for the armory, yanking a heavy assault cannon off a rack and hefting the heavy weapon as he ran to the hatch, raising it to hip level and firing a half-dozen heavy bolts before realizing that was hazardous to his health.

Given that the exit was magnetically sealed, the bolts just ricocheted around the cabin, one of them nearly tagging him in the back. He dropped the cannon and slammed on the hatch in impotent fury and frustration, angry tears falling from his eyes as he poured out his desperation. The engines of the _Kandosii_ flared up, and he watched the building grow smaller and smaller in the distance until the ramp closed of its own accord, its safety systems responding to the vacuum of space.

No words came as he slumped to the ground. His throat was closed, sealed with the force of his grief.

Buir_…what have you done?_

…

"You fool!"

Xan turned in time for Vader's gloved fist to cave in his nose, knocking him back several feet. The Mando desperately tried to recover, but his opponent was furious. Never before had he felt such blatant, powerful hatred, either as Vader tore tiles off the floor and walls to chuck at his opponent, or as the Dark Lord dashed toward him with a one-handed blow that rendered his x-block useless. In fact, since his left arm was the first appendage impacted, it got the worst of the damage, and he looked in horror as it fell limp at his side, the joint partially reversed. It was then that he stumbled backward, vision blurry and reddened. The saber that had fallen returned to the hand of its master.

Xander clenched his teeth through the pain and continued his limping retreat outside. "You've lost," he hissed. "He will _never_ be yours!" His eyes widened slightly as he realized exactly where he was standing, and although the doorway wasn't nearly as dark as he remembered, he knew very well that visions from the Force were rarely, if ever, crystal clear.

_Snap-hiss._

Xan smirked sardonically. _Guess there's no waking up this time._

"Never is a long time, Mandalorian…like death. Tell me," Vader mocked, "how does it feel to know you're about to die?"

Xander grinned. "There is no death, _shabuir_, there's only the Force." He reached over to his left arm and painfully reversed the joint to the right direction, channeling the Force into the torn muscles and numbing the pain. His gaze returned to Vader. "In this case—" he fell into a ready stance, "I prefer the word 'sacrifice.'" Xander yelled as he sprinted at the Sith, the Force giving him an acceleration no one could match, his body becoming an armored blur in his final charge.

Vader's saber raised.

Xander leapt.

The glowing red shaft found the exact gap that Kell's knife had just hours before, bypassing the armor entirely and plunging through his chest. The smell of burnt flesh filled Xander's nostrils as agony tore through him.

But he kept pushing.

Another step, and Vader was forced closer to the edge of the platform. Invisible fingers closed around Xander's throat, followed by real ones as Vader choked the already ebbing life out of him. Xander bared his teeth and roared into Vader's faceplate as he triggered his jetpack in tandem with a Force Leap, catapulting both of them off the side of the platform into a 4000-foot drop.

The world around him slowed as Xander fell to his death, his grip around Vader's torso ensuring that the Sith would at least feel it. All feeling left him, and his vision grayed, the usual neon and lights of Nar Shaddaa dulling to a dim glow in the presence of what he saw. His eyes widened.

_So…this is what dying is like for Jedi._

A small, sad smile came to his face as they fell from view of the cityscape, his eyes fluttering shut. _I love you, Xel. I always will. Take care, my dear boy…_

…

A sharp, unbearable pain tore through Xel. His eyes bulged, lungs stopped breathing, heart stopped beating. Everything in him halted for just a moment, yet that was all it took to confirm what he knew deep down. His father was dead.

As the ship jumped to hyperspace, all feeling left his body, and the contents of his stomach expelled a moment before he passed out.

* * *

><p>AN: I've decided to switch releases to around 7 AM instead of PM, since my evenings have become so unpredictable.<p>

Musical Inspirations:

Star Wars: Republic Commando – Rage of the Shadow Warriors: Pirates vs. Xel vs. Hammer

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back – Carbon Freeze/Darth Vader's Trap: 10:18-end – "You fool!" to Xander's fall


	6. The Message

A sharp, unbearable pain tore through Xel. His eyes bulged, lungs stopped breathing, heart stopped beating. Everything in him halted for just a moment, yet that was all it took to confirm what he knew deep down. His father was dead.

As the ship jumped to hyperspace, all feeling left his body, and the contents of his stomach expelled a moment before he passed out.

…

4 hours later

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

1 year, 7 months BBY

A pair of dark, troubled eyes fluttered open, only half seeing. A pair of arms pressed back against the cold metal floor weakly, barely lifting the body they were attached to off the ground. The eyes flitted about, their gaze finding an amorphous disruption among the even grate pattern. They widened in disgusted recognition, then closed completely as their owner realized why it was there.

Xel's fists clenched at his sides. _Damn it...damn it..._

"Damn it!"

His left fist slammed into the nearest wall, sending shots of pain up and across his arm. That pain was nothing compared to what was devouring his heart, though. It was as if he had just entered the digestive tract of a sarlacc, the beast's system slowly but surely eating away at him until there was nothing left. He collapsed to his knees yet again, another wave of nausea rushing up his throat until it closed on his command. His clenched fists held back the force of his grief, his shaking legs forced to cooperate and bring him to his feet. One foot fell after the other as he made his way to the cockpit, once again to futilely try and undo whatever his father did to the nav systems.

The moment he dropped into the pilot's seat was the moment the ship dropped out of hyperspace. His eyes widened a bit as he saw the green orb of Mandalore beyond his viewport. Suddenly, the controls were his again...and he had no idea where to go. Something scratched at the back of his head, and he vaguely remembered the assassin currently sitting in his cargo hold. _65K_. He shook his head. _Pointless now._ What was he going to do with the money? Xel was a boy—a _man_ of simple tastes, never one for extravagant purchases. What little he did buy was always geared toward preparing for the next job or getting souvenirs for his friends back home. _Or...gifts for Dad._

He forced himself away from that line of thinking and powered up the sublight engines, flying toward his home on the surface of Mandalore. Xander had long told him that on the offchance anything happened to him, he would always be able to rely on Uncle Teras, and he intended to follow his father's advice to the letter. Ten minutes later, the _Kandosii'tal _touched down on Clan Caden's landing strip, and Xel stepped off the landing ramp, helmet tucked under his arm as a reflex from years of training. He saw the man he was looking for almost immediately, smiling and utterly oblivious to the utter hell Xel was going through.

"Xel! _Verd'ika_, what brings you two back home?"

The younger Caden's eyes met his, locking completely and staying there as they both stared at each other, the smile slowly but surely fading from Teras' face.

"Xel," he started quietly, "what...happened? Where's your father?"

"He's..." Xel's throat slammed shut, and everything started to spin.

His helmet hit the dirt along with his knees a second later. Teras' quick dash forward prevented him from outright faceplanting, the Zabrak's strong arms on his shoulders the only things keeping him up. The boy's head found its way onto Teras' shoulder as the larger man held him close, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Xel's own limbs rose weakly, his fingers clutching his uncle's shoulder plates with a death grip as his teeth clenched until he couldn't hold back anymore.

So he just cut loose and emptied himself.

When it seemed like his angry tears had finally calmed down, Teras held him at arm's length, brown eyes searching his dark blue ones. "_Ad'ika_...I'm so sorry." His own eyes were glistening. "I know it'll be difficult, but please. Tell me what happened."

...

10 minutes later

Caden residence, Mandalore

Teras listened to the whole account with a carefully schooled, businesslike expression, only ever breaking this facade to lay a comforting hand on his nephew's arm when it looked like he'd break down. Xel knew he was trying to be strong, but this was his brother. Teras had known Xander far longer than him, and likely shared more than a few close scrapes with him. His hands curled into fists subconsciously as he realized that Teras would never have allowed his brother to die like he had, or at all, for that matter.

"Xel, stop."

The boy looked up. "Huh?"

Teras' expression was the same one his father used to correct him. "I know that look, kid. Same one your dad used whenever he was unnecessarily blaming himself, and believe me, that happened a lot."

Xel looked away. "He tackled that monstrosity to save me, so how _else_ am I supposed to feel?"

Teras laid a hand on his. "How about starting with gratitude?"

The boy gave him a sideways look.

"If I were you, Xel, I'd...yes, I'd be heartbroken. Hell, I already am...look, the bottom line is, your dad loved you more than anything in the galaxy." He sighed heavily. "You know you always hear from parents that they'll give their lives for their children, but...how often do you actually see that promise in action? I had hoped you'd never have to, but the fact that you did...Xel, don't you see?"

His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly on the table, his eyes down. "Yes. I see."

They were both silent for a long time. "_Ad'ika_?"

"Hm?"

Teras stood up. "Come with me. There's...something your father left for you. Something he told me to give you if anything happened."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed as he followed his uncle. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see."

The boy followed Teras through one room after the next until they reached Xander's old study. His throat closed as he remembered all the times they'd both spent in this room, especially when he was younger. _Dad...holding me on his lap...reading by the fire._ His eyes closed as a small, sad smile came to his face, tears spilling out of his eyes.

"Xel?"

His eyes snapped open. "Coming."

Teras nodded solemnly and reached over to a wall, pressing on a particular section of it to reveal a false panel. Reaching inside, the Zabrak drew out a small, cubic object and carried it to a nearby table, where they both sat facing the same direction.

"What is it?"

"A datacron, a repository of information or messages. Xander always said it was like his...last will and testament, or some such _osik_." He tapped it a couple of times. "Never could figure out how to work it myself, but maybe that's the point. Maybe it only responds to you."

They exchanged a look before Xel shrugged and reached out, pressing his index to the top, where a section of the cube's surface gave way like a button. Suddenly, the entire cube shifted, its corners spinning to turn the cube into a makeshift holoprojector. A sharp intake of breath preceded the armored picture of a smiling Xander Caden. Xel reached out. _Buir..._

"Hello Xel," the recording greeted. "If you're watching this then...well then I'm dead." His smile faded. "I once promised you that I'd be here as long as you needed me, but if you're hearing this then I've likely broken that promise. I'm so sorry." The hologram closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I'm sorry that I won't be there to see you take your first steps in the Force, or get married...or be reunited with the rest of our family."

Xel took a quick intake of breath, noting the lack of surprise in Teras' face.

"I had...wanted to tell you in person, but it looks like I never got the chance." Xander's holographic eyes seemed to bore into Xel's. "Your mother is no ordinary woman. We met during the Clone Wars, when I was a mercenary under the Republic. She was my commanding officer, a general in the Grand Army. Xel, she was a Knight of the Jedi Order."

The boy's eyes shot as wide as they could go as he gaped at the message.

"I know that must be a shock for you, but please hear me out. No matter what you hear about the Jedi, and I hope I instill this in you, they never did what the Empire said they did, nor were they all the same. Your mother was special, and not just to me, but to all the men under her command. That's why when Order 66 was carried out, there were enough conscientious objectors to allow us to leave without a fight. Four years later, you were born, along with your older brother. You must think it cruel to have split you two, but trust me when I say there was a reason for it."

Xander scratched his head. "Your…mother would be able to explain this better than me." His eyes became determined as he returned his gaze to Xel's. "Which is why it's high time you two meet. I had hoped to be there for that reunion, but it looks like it wasn't to be. Take the data stick in this datacron and input it into the _Kandosii'tal's_ nav computer. The subroutine will send several pings over a closed channel, which will then in turn be answered by an automated system giving you a set of coordinates. Go to those coordinates. Find Telia. If the circumstances of my death are as I suspect they would be, then you must learn about the other side of your heritage at all costs.

"She'll know what I mean." He smiled sadly. "Tell her…I'm sorry, just as I've told you." His gaze drifted away. "No matter what, Xel, I always want you to remember something. Your choices are yours, and yours alone. Don't _ever_ give up your free will for _any_ reason. I didn't raise my son to be a slave to anyone or anything, and I don't ever want you to relinquish your right to choose to anyone, not even me." He smiled. "Above all, I want you to know just how proud I am of you, how proud I am to be your father. My only regret is not being there to see the kind of man you'll become, but I know that whoever that is, he's going to change the galaxy." Xander smiled wider. "_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_, Xel."

Xel smiled back, his eyes red and running over, the table below already bearing several fallen drops. "_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Buir._"

"Access granted."

Xel did a double-take as Xander's image faded and the datacron's side panel opened to reveal the data stick mentioned. The boy carefully removed it, holding it up and exchanging a look with his uncle. Xel's eyes narrowed at the look on his face.

"You knew," he accused.

"What?"

"You knew about all this." He motioned to the datacron.

"If you mean I knew about your mother, then yes, but as far as the rest..."

"Define 'the rest.'"

"Look, Xel—"

"Did you know that my father was a Jedi, or that I had a twin brother, or—?"

"All of the above, and your father was _not_ a Jedi, not even close. Xander made me swear not to tell you anything about her _or_ your brother. Said we'd be safer that way."

"Safe from whom?"

"From the Empire!"

"Well..." Xel clenched his teeth. "Well Dad's dead because of them _anyway_, so what good did _that _do?!"

Teras looked away, fists curled. "I—I'm not proud of what we did, but it was all to keep you safe, and you are, Xel. For that reason alone, I know that if he could speak to us, your father wouldn't regret his decision."

"His decision..." Xel broke his stare and looked off into the distance. His look became hard after a moment or two, and he strode determinedly out the door, right toward the _Kandosii_.

"Xel, where are you going? Xel!" Teras ran to catch up to him as he strode up the ramp. "Xel, _ad'ika_, wait a minute—"

The boy spun on his heel and fixed his uncle with a piercing stare.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see my mother. Alone."

Teras' eyes widened. "Are you crazy? The Empire is looking for you, and if Vader's involved, they'll never stop searching." He put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Please, your father wouldn't want you to go alone."

"My father wanted me to make my own choices." Xel's eyes narrowed and bore into Teras'. "Well, this is my choice. I'm going alone." His expression softened a bit, and he put his free hand on his uncle's shoulder. "I'll comm. you when I get there and keep you informed. I promise."

Teras swallowed hard, but eventually nodded and stepped off the ramp as Xel entered the ship. The boy closed the hatch behind him and put the data stick into the nav computer. As expected, a program ran through the ship's systems, sending several pings over high-frequency channels. A mere five minutes returned a set of coordinates. When input into the galaxy map, the digits pointed to one particular planet: Obroa-skai. _Guess I'm headed to the Inner Rim then._ The _Kandosii'tal _rose from the plains of Mandalore, leaving Teras and the Caden settlement behind. For all he knew, Xel was saying goodbye for good, and that suited him just fine. After feeling what he felt in Xander's study, he wasn't sure he could face that home again.

At the same time, though, the ship itself carried just as much, if not more, in the way of potentially painful memories, yet it didn't make him feel that way. If anything, between the familiar smell of metal, the constant hum of the engines, and the _beskar'gam_ he always kept here, Xel felt at peace, comforted. Here, he was free to choose his own path and destination, free from the shackles of atmosphere or gravity. Yes, life as a space nomad certainly had its advantages. No matter what happened to you, no matter what memories were forged that cut scars into your mind and soul, you could always start anew somewhere else. A series of bangs from the posterior of the ship prompted rolling of the eyes, and Xel programmed a side stop before making the jump to hyperspace.

...

Durga's Palace, Nal Hutta

Xel strode through the front door of Durga's throne room in full armor, hand clenched around Kell Hammer's intact arm. Even from this distance, without any magnification, the hunter could see his Hutt patron's fat eyebrows raise at the condition of his former employee. Hammer was bruised and battered, his face barely recognizable. His right arm was in a rough sling and his left leg in a makeshift splint. Xel was sure Durga had never expected this to happen, so allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction at the shock on the Hutt's face.

"One traitorous accountant, as ordered." He shoved Hammer to his knees in front of Durga's dais, and the Hutt stared at him for a few moments before giving his response.

"You're alone."

"And?"

"What became of your partner?"

"Bit irrelevant, don't you think? I brought you the bounty, and we had a deal."

Durga laughed. "So we did."

Xel's eyes narrowed within his helmet.

"I received word from my contacts on the Smuggler's Moon indicating that the Empire had a small strike force sent to the surface. Would you know anything about that?"

Xel crossed his arms. "You don't pay me to know. You pay me to get results." He waved at Hammer's prone body. "Results."

Durga's lips curved into a smile. "As you wish, Mando." He waved to his major domo, who stepped forward with a heavy briefcase.

Xel moved toward him and took the handle, laying it on a nearby table and opening it to reveal over six layers of stacked credit chips.

"Sixty-five thousand, as promised." Durga chuckled. "Don't spend it all in one place."

"I wouldn't worry about that." Xel closed the case. "Mandos aren't known for being heavy spenders." He waved at Kell. "Enjoy your present, Lord Durga." Without another word, Xel strode from the throne room, making the long trek back to his ship. _His_ ship.

...

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

"Above all, I want you to know just how proud I am of you, how proud I am to be your father. My only regret is not being there to see the kind of man you'll become, but I know that whoever that is, he's going to change the galaxy._ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_, Xel."

Xel hit the "replay" button for the fourth time since the jump to hyperspace, absently listening and more focusing on the last vision of his father that was contained in the datacron's message. He took a deep breath and released it, wiping his hand over his face. _Still can't believe he's gone._ Xel looked over at the medical berth in the next room, the last place he'd seen his father smile, and felt his eyes prick with tears. He did a double-take as he saw something else, rising from his seat to move into the makeshift med bay.

His jaw dropped. On the table next to Xander's berth lay his Mandalorian crushgaunts and _beskar_ knife. Xel picked up the latter, slipping it from its sheath and giving it a few experimental swings. It was a little heavier than his durasteel knife and a good two inches longer, razor-sharp on the entirety of one edge and of the same sharpness about a fifth of the way from the tip on the back. There was a small ring on the upper front of the knife's handle, and Xel put his finger through it, lightly snapping his wrist in one direction and watching as the ring served as a pivot point for the knife, allowing it to spin forward or backward.

He smiled slightly and returned the weapon to its sheath, noting that his own knife was gone. He blinked twice and sighed, looking at the crushgaunts as well and narrowing his eyes. Had he known? Had Xander known he was going to die? Whether he had or not, Xel resolved to keep using both items, to keep a part of his father with him. _You said you couldn't keep your promise because you're dead, but that's not true._ He slipped his own gloves off and pulled the crushgaunts on, curling and uncurling his fingers to get a feel for them. He reached over and strapped the knife to the right side of his belt, where his durasteel blade once sat, and drew it underhandedly, the front edge angled forward.

_ As long as these are with me, you will be too._ He sheathed the knife. Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_._ _I'm still alive, but you're dead. I remember you, so you are eternal._ His eyes closed as he breathed in deeply. _Join with the _Manda_, _Buir_. I'll take it from here._

...

Obroa-skai

An hour after landing on the terrestrial world, Xel had managed to find the location specified by the coordinates, tracing it to a relatively remote settlement in the low mountains. As he got closer, his datapad, which held the data stick from the datacron, started to flicker. New data streamed across the screen, and more specific directions were presented. He made his way to a two-story house on the peak of a hill, the front door on a level section of the plateau, two long walls running parallel to each other and pointing to the door. The walls stretched out about 20 feet, where they turned at 90 degree angles and kept going around the settlement's modest but spacious grounds.

He marched up to the door, tucking the datapad into the back of his belt and raising his right hand to the bell. His index hesitated over the button. _If I do this, there's no going back._ His finger moved forward with certainty. A half-minute passed and uneasiness settled into his gut. He turned away, not wanting to look as expectant as he was, and folded his hands together behind his back. As the possibility of leaving occurred to him, Xel heard the door click open behind him and turned around halfway before he heard a familiar and disturbing sound.

_Snap-hiss._

Before he even registered the emerald shaft that lit up the night, he leapt six feet away from the door, dive-rolling and spinning toward the entrance, drawing his pistols as he rose. With adrenaline cramming into his system, everything slowed to a near-stop, allowing him to take a good look at who was holding the lightsaber. The weapon's pale green glow cast deep shadows over the face of its owner, the shorter figure wearing a hooded cloak that completely masked their features. All he could see was the glint of the lightsaber's reflection in this person's eyes, as well as the way they widened a few moments later.

"Xander?" a female voice asked.

Xel's heart skipped a beat, and he slowly lowered his pistols as she did the same with her saber, one being holstered as he pulled off his helmet with one arm. "Not...exactly."

The pair looked at each other for a long time, the hooded figure deactivating her weapon as she gaped at him and stepped forward slowly, one hand reaching up and pulling back the hood. "Xel?" The saber was clipped to her belt absently as she continued to approach, the boy suddenly feeling at ease and holstering his other pistol without a word. She reached up and laid a gentle hand on his cheek. "My boy," she breathed out.

His eyes fluttered closed, and a small, shuddering breath escaped him as an unimaginable feeling of peace washed over him.

"My boy." She threw her arms around him, and he instantly returned the action, holding her tightly. She laughed softly, tears streaming down her face. "My dear boy."

The small, delicate fingers she stroked through his hair felt so familiar, and he was instantly certain that they weren't separated at birth. His mind may not have known this woman, but his heart and soul did.

Slowly but surely, she pulled away, cupping his face with her hands and holding him at arm's length. "Xel...you've grown so much."

"Your name...it's..." He scrunched his eyes together hard, trying desperately to remember something that was scratching at the back of his mind. The blue orbs snapped open. "Telia. Telia Li-am."

Telia beamed at her son. "That's right." She looked over his shoulder, eyes darting side to side, searching. "You're alone?" Her gaze returned to his. "Where's your father?"

His face fell instantly, and he looked away.

"Xel, where is Xander?"

"He's...gone."

All the breath left her, and she bit her lower lip hard, stifling the shriek that threatened to erupt. After a few moments and calling on the Force to calm herself, Telia gripped Xel's armored shoulders and nudged him toward the door. "Come inside, please."

Xel nodded numbly, noting the gentle light from a fireplace on the other side of the rather spacious entrance. The house screamed of wood architecture, giving it a very antique yet homey feel as he entered. One good look and he knew that was the exact effect intended. Like her, it was...calming, peaceful. Guilt still nagged at him as she closed the door, and he spun to face her. "Telia, I—"

"It's not your fault, Xel." She avoided his gaze, curling a lock of brown hair around her finger. "We...we knew something like this could happen someday. It was always possible, likely even." She let out another sharp breath, shaking her head slightly to ward off her tumultuous emotions. Telia forced a smile onto her face. "My boy's home, at long last. That's all that's important right now." She motioned to a chair by the fire. "Have a seat, please. I'll be right back."

He gulped and nodded, complying and laying his helmet down on a nearby table before leaning his elbows on his knees, chin braced on his intertwined fingers. His eyes watched the fire dance, casting dim shadows and red light over his face. Before he knew it, his eyes grew heavy with the mesmerizing sight and drooped completely until his body followed. A warm, gentle hand on his shoulder woke him. His body usually made him scream at such disturbances when he was this tired, but not this time. This time he just looked up at the source drowsily and rose at its prompting, following her lead to another room on the second floor, where he numbly stripped off his armor and fell onto a cushioned substance, passing out almost instantly.

...

_I can't believe it._ They said seeing was believing, yet Telia had seen for the last twenty minutes and still couldn't believe it. All those lessons from Master Yoda about the tricks of the eyes came rushing back to her, but as she stretched out to see him in the Force as well, there was no denying that he was unquestionably hers. Although it was much fainter than that of his brother, Xel's Force Bond was still very much present, and although she couldn't tell whether it had been formed at infancy or in the last half hour, it was there, and she wasn't sure it mattered. A soft hand stroked through his helmet-tousled, jet-black hair, smoothing it all out as he unconsciously snuggled closer to the touch.

Telia smiled gently. There was so much she wanted to tell him, to learn from him, so much she wanted to talk to him about, yet she was perfectly content to just watch him sleep. _I missed the first thirteen years of his life._ Her smile faded. _It's time to start with the little things._ Reaching out to him across their Bond, Telia couldn't help but wince at the pain radiating across it, yet another melancholy reminder of her husband's passing. Her eyes slammed shut and every fiber of her being channeled her Jedi training to keep from breaking down. She focused on Xel, on calming his troubled mind and heart, and slowly, bit by bit, he relaxed, whatever troubled dreams he was having fading away.

Telia withdrew from their Bond and his new room, closing the door and walking down the hall to check on her other son, his gentle snores no more than a small rumble. She smirked. _Always early to bed._ Her head shook slowly. _Some things don't change._ She stretched out to the Force, touching both their Bonds before finding a third that ended all too abruptly. Walking into her room, she completely closed herself off from anything and everything else, shielding herself in the Force so no one, not even her oldest son, could feel anything from her.

And she poured out her grief to the silent walls.

* * *

><p>AN: Since the next chapter is really short, I'll be releasing it tomorrow, then we'll be back to Thursday releases next week.<p> 


	7. Answers

Telia withdrew from their Bond and his new room, closing the door and walking down the hall to check on her other son, his gentle snores no more than a small rumble. She smirked. _Always early to bed._ Her head shook slowly. _Some things don't change._ She stretched out to the Force, touching both their bonds before finding a third that ended all too abruptly. Walking into her room, she completely closed herself off from anything and everything else, shielding herself in the Force so no one, not even her oldest son, could feel anything from her.

And she poured out her grief to the silent walls.

...

Next morning

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 7 months BBY

Warmth. Softness. Peace. Really, Xel could get used to this bed. _If only Dad had gotten this thing sooner..._ His eyes snapped open and darted around. The room was unfamiliar, neither in the _Kandosii'tal_ nor their house on Mandalore. And then the truth dawned on him for the second morning in a row. Strangely enough, he no longer felt like crying. The pain had fallen to a dull ache. It was...tolerable. The boy laid back down, his eyes open as he contemplated the meaning of this. Another ten minutes passed before he shook himself off and rather painfully extracted himself from those comforters.

He really could get used to that bed.

His feet planted on the ground before he realized he was still in his full-body undersuit. His eyes scanned the bedroom and alighted on his armor plates, stacked in a rather haphazard manner instead of his usual neatness, and he concluded that something truly taxing must have happened the day before. _You just found out your dad was dead and mother is a Jedi, dummy. Why wouldn't that be exhausting?_ He shook his head and his thoughts, striding toward the stack and pulling on his flight suit and boots before moving toward the exit.

His eyes widened before closing as his nostrils flared with deep inhalation. _What in _shab_ is that?_ Whatever it was, both his nose and empty stomach were going crazy in anticipation, and he bolted for the stairs immediately. His feet skipped them three at a time, landing him on the ground floor in a matter of seconds and catapulting him toward the source of the smell. He came into sight of the kitchen and stopped in his tracks.

There was his mother, who he hadn't really gotten a good look at last night, shuffling around the spacious room, managing appliances and dishes with pristine skill. He silently approached the entrance, leaning against the doorframe, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the cupboard to his left opened of its own accord, sending a container of something flying toward her waiting hand.

"You know, it's not really possible to sneak up on a Jedi."

He blinked. "I figured." He took a few steps forward, leaning sideways against an unoccupied counter.

She turned to him with one of the warmest smiles he'd ever seen, and he couldn't help but return it. The woman, who had to be pushing forty if not later, had kept her age well. Her five-eleven body had been kept in perfect order, and her dirty blonde hair was done up in a complex series of braids all twisted together into a ponytail. Her eyes, dark brown and narrow, seemed to carry with them years of experience and hardship yet keep the warm qualities that immediately made him want to trust her last night.

He let out a sigh and pushed himself back up onto the counter. "So…what's the game plan for today?"

She turned back to her work, absently waving a hand to command a pan to adjust on the stove. "That, young one, is up to you. I would suggest moving whatever you need from your ship…and maybe the ship itself."

Xel nodded. "Right." He pushed himself off and walked toward the stairs.

"Xel."

He stopped and turned to her.

She fidgeted nervously for a second or two. "I'm…I'm glad you're here."

He smiled softly. "Me too."

…

_He has so many questions._ Telia's vibroknife cut straight through the nerf meat, filleting it neatly before tossing the cut onto its waiting pan. She leaned on her hands, putting her weight on the counter and thinking hard. _How do I tell him? How do I break the news?_ Her son was every bit as strong as his father, perhaps not in body, but definitely in will. _And in the Force._ Though Xel wasn't accessing it, he was still radiating with the same raw power his father had. If cultivated, he would be a powerful practitioner.

"Right then," Xel called before leaping the last four steps to the ground, now fully armored. "I'm off. See you in twenty."

She nodded to him and gave a tight smile. "Be careful."

He smiled back. "Always am."

The moment the door shut behind him, she let out a long breath. Another set of steps reverberated at the top of the stairs, heralding the arrival of a five-eleven boy with brown hair and eyes of the brightest ice blue she'd ever seen.

"As always, you take forever to get out of the 'fresher."

He grinned at her. "What can I say? I like to look my best."

She raised an eyebrow at a rogue cluster of hair that made his whole style look lopsided.

Alen weaved his fingers through his nearly shoulder-length hair, fixing the locks and making himself look presentable. He leaned against an empty counter, arms crossed. "So."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "So?"

"Is there a reason I felt someone else in this house?"

...

30 minutes later

_Miserable _shabuire_. _Xel strung off a half-dozen Mando'a curse words in his head, only grumbling on the outside as he went through the front door of his new home. The docking authority had given him grief about taking off and parking elsewhere in-atmosphere, insisting the need to clear it with the local Imperial authorities. That is, until Xel dropped a nice stack of credits in his empty palm and told him it was Mandalorian business. Somehow, and he wasn't sure how, that managed to shut him up. As if that wasn't enough, a group of mercs had tried pestered him into joining their crew until he flipped his knife and told them in no uncertain terms to _usen'ye_.

When he finally found a proper spot to land, he already felt exhausted. What his eyes saw upon coming through the door was potentially just as taxing. The man—the boy standing in front of him turned about, revealing a facial structure eerily similar to Telia's. Xel's eyes widened.

"Xel Caden," Telia said as she strode into the room, "meet your brother, Alen Li-am."

Xel sized him up for a few moments before extending his hand.

"It's good to finally meet you," his brother said.

The other boy's eyes narrowed to slits and looked sideways at Telia, who seemed a little tenser than she had a few moments ago. "Finally?" He looked from one to the other. "How long did he know?"

Telia and Alen exchanged a wary look before she looked down and the latter answered. "Since I was…what was it, eight?"

Xel's eyes went wide, and both Jedi gulped at the flurry of emotions that flowed through him. Xel turned away with purpose, his breathing becoming labored as his hands clenched into fists. _He didn't tell me…_ Tension filled him until Alen bravely put a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Xel scowled. "He didn't tell me…until two months ago."

Both of them let out slight gasps.

"He didn't _shabla_ tell me."

"Well," Alen said softly with a smile, "you know now."

"No sense griping about the past," Xel responded quietly, more to himself than his brother. _How many times did Dad tell me that?_

Alen smiled wider. "Right." He gave Xel's shoulder a firm pat, striding toward the kitchen, where his brother's stomach reminded him breakfast was waiting.

Xel didn't miss the relieved smile on Telia's face as he passed. A few minutes later, he and the other two were seated around a round table near the fireplace, the silence only interrupted by the intermittent crackling of flames. A long breath left the boy's body as he savored the first piece of nerf steak. "_Shab_ that's good," he breathed out with satisfaction. "Think I finally know who taught Dad how to cook."

"She's always like this," Alen added almost poutingly. "Always with the gourmet cuisine."

"I don't ever hear you complaining," Telia chided.

He gave her a toothy grin, intentionally showing a steak piece stuck between his teeth as she rolled her eyes and Xel chuckled. "I guess I have less appreciation for it now, considering I've been eating it all my life."

"I don't know," Xel cut in, "I'm not sure I could ever get used to eating like this."

"Thought you said Dad cooked like this."

"Yeah, when he actually _did_ cook, which wasn't often."

"Food rations?" Telia asked. "Seriously?"

Xel smiled. "He always told me that any good soldier needs to learn to eat anything. Never know what you're gonna have on the battlefield, after all."

"Ugh, I can remember what he brought in on Tibrin." She gave out a shudder.

Alen laughed with his mouth full, stopping when something unexpectedly lodged in his throat and sputtering several times, half laughing, half choking. Xel couldn't hold himself from laughter even as he smacked Alen's back—hard. The blockage was cleared and Alen gave his brother a thumbs-up as they returned to their meals.

…

Telia smiled gently, still more than unsettled by Xel's extreme reaction earlier. She gave an involuntary shudder at the memory. Alen may not have felt it, but she did, and with all that anger…his Force aura was more powerful than any she'd felt in a long time, and he wasn't even accessing it. One thing was for sure. This kid needed guidance and training. He needed to learn his Jedi heritage. If he didn't…she didn't even want to think about that possibility.

…

"So," Xel said when he finally wiped his plate clean, "I'm gonna ask you a bunch of questions, and I'd like them answered _immediately_."

Telia's lips tightened. "Fair enough. Ask away."

Xel licked his lips, taking a few breaths as he pondered his first query. "Why—?"

"Why were we separated?"

He closed his mouth and nodded slowly.

She sighed and slid her chair next to his, taking her hands in his. "You…and your brother…when you were born, it was the happiest day of my life. Of _both_ our lives." She hesitated. "Okay…first off, it wasn't your father's idea. It was mine."

Xel's eyes widened, but he said nothing.

Telia held his hands tightly. "Believe me, letting the both of you go was the hardest thing I've ever done, but it _had_ to be done. When you were born, your father and I felt your existence in the Force, but it was more than just existence, it was…presence." She glanced up to see his confusion. "You were both heavily Force-sensitive, and we knew it. As you would grow, so would your presence, your signature in the Force."

"So?"

"So the Empire looks for such signatures," Alen cut in.

"Exactly," his mother confirmed. "We knew that if the Empire ever discovered your existence, they would hunt us to the end of the galaxy."

"So you split us up to reduce concentration."

She nodded.

Xel looked away and was silent a long time. His right fist and teeth clenched. "I understand. Doesn't mean I like it, but I understand." He met her gaze again. "How did the Empire find us then?"

"Whenever you use the Force, your presence is more apparent. Even if you try to hide yourself, using Force-related abilities gives you away."

"But I never even knew I _could_."

"So, more than likely, it was your father who accidentally tipped them off."

Xel looked down and away until he felt another hand on his shoulder.

"That doesn't mean you won't eventually become strong enough to cast a shadow. You need to learn how to hide yourself in the Force, like we can."

He nodded numbly. "I know." A long silence passed before he locked gazes with her. "So when do we start?"


	8. Training, Part I

"So, more than likely, it was your father who accidentally tipped them off."

Xel looked down and away until he felt another hand on his shoulder.

"That doesn't mean you won't eventually become strong enough to cast a shadow. You need to learn how to hide yourself in the Force, like we can."

He nodded numbly. "I know." A long silence passed before he locked gazes with her. "So when do we start?"

…

Next morning

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 7 months BBY

Xel watched in rapt attention as Telia lifted a cube-like device in front of her.

"This," she explained, "is a Jedi holocron, a repository of information that is given or held back by the holocron's guardian based on the student's knowledge, power, and motivation. I have two total, one that involves knowledge of the lightsaber, the other knowledge of the Force."

"Something tells me neither was easy to come by."

Telia smirked. "Well, one I had on me when Order 66 was issued, the other I found here, in an abandoned Jedi Academy, before the Empire rolled in and destroyed it all. The possibility that they might have missed something was my primary reason for settling here with Alen."

He nodded. "Makes sense. You're not worried that the Imperial presence here might put you at risk?"

"Why do you think we're all the way up here in the mountains? Besides, if someone who could pick up our signatures were here, we'd have sensed him."

"Gotcha. So…how does this work, exactly?"

She sighed. "Normally, we'd begin with youngling initiations. The holocron would run you through the Jedi Code, basics of accessing your Force Sense…" She suppressed a smile at Xel's steadily raising eyebrows. "But I can see you're a busy man, so I'll teach you to do the latter. Come."

He trailed behind his mother as she strode to the back door, opening it and letting in a burst of cold mountain air. Telia had insisted that he not wear his armor during training, so he borrowed one of Alen's robes. _Speaking of, where is he?_ Telia had told him Alen was always early to bed and early to rise, so he was probably either taking a walk somewhere or meditating in his room. _Can't for the life of me figure out how someone could just…sit there for hours on end._

"It helps him focus his Force," Telia said.

Xel's face scrunched up for a few seconds before his eyes turned to discs. "Did you just—?"

"Read your thoughts? Yes."

His face went completely red.

She laughed warmly. "Relax, I don't do it all the time, and I didn't really mean to just now. You just don't know how to block me yet, so you're easy to read."

"Oh," he said quietly, still a bit disturbed. The idea of someone sifting through his thoughts was…unsettling, to say the least.

"Trust me, it could be worse."

He glared.

She smirked.

It was then that he noticed how badly he was shivering, while she wasn't even batting an eyelash at the cold. He shook his head. "Figures."

"I know how to shield myself in the Force. Sit." She sat on her knees, and he sluggishly followed suit. "Close your eyes and clear your mind."

His eyes shut as he sighed.

"I said _clear_ your mind, not use it to gripe."

He rolled his eyes internally. "I can't just stop thinking."

"No, you can focus on just one thing, yourself, and specifically the itch at the back of your mind. I know it's there, even if you don't think you can feel it."

Xel focused hard, using his training as a Mando and closing himself off from everything except what he wanted. The cold stopped biting. Distractions ceased. The wind's howling stilled to a dull hum in his ears. A small whisper reached his consciousness.

_"Do you feel it?"_

_"Yes," _he responded on instinct.

_"Probe it, then. Pull on it. Coax it out."_

Not quite sure what she meant, Xel just kept focusing on the "itch," as she called it, getting a better feel for it, memorizing every detail until more started to be revealed. Then he felt that out too. This continued for a long time, until he could feel a long cord unraveling in his mind, sliding between his mental fingers. It was so strange, yet so familiar.

_"It is the Force you feel. You know it as instinct."_

_ "What do you mean?"_

_ "Have you ever wondered why you were so quick to grasp new concepts or techniques? How your reflexes and form have always been top notch? You've been subconsciously using the Force your whole life, to a very small and enhancing degree, instead of directly manipulating it."_

_ "So what do I do now?"_

_ "Now? Nothing. Practice getting to where you are now. Practice focusing on that place. Feel it, embrace it."_

Xel took a deep breath, then opened his eyes, bringing the world back into focus. His mother did the same, and the two exchanged a glance. She nodded to him, and he closed his eyes again, calling on his training and focusing to get to that point.

Telia smiled when he did. _"Very good, son. You learn quickly."_

"I have a good teacher," he said aloud, opening his eyes and smiling back. "So what's next?"

…

2 weeks later

"Focus, Xel."

"I _am_ focusing." Sweat streamed down his face as he held a hand up, concentrating on moving the cup two feet away from him.

Telia let out an exasperated sigh. "Look. Stop." She grabbed his arm. "Manipulating the Force isn't like firing a blaster or throwing a punch. The limb is just a focusing tool. A skilled Force user should be able to perform minor telekinetic manipulations like this without lifting a finger. Your mind—" she tapped his forehead, "—is your true source of power. Use it."

Xel raised an eyebrow and chewed on his lip impatiently, then focused once again, concentrating on clearing his mind and moving the cup, even just a little. After another ten seconds of no action, he sighed in frustration and closed his eyes, staying completely immobile and visualizing the cup, every ridge and facet, moving sideways across the table. He focused on that vision more and more, letting it completely fill his consciousness and mind's eye until he believed it was reality, then he touched the Force. A small, slight grinding sound reached his ears, and he smiled as he opened his eyes, watching as the ceramic vessel moved at his will. When it stopped, and he turned to the side, Telia was beaming at him, as was Alen, who was doing pull-ups by the dozen.

"You see?" she asked. "See how easy that was?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Not really. Took a lot of visualizing. A little _too_ much for my taste."

"No," she corrected, "it took _believing_. If you don't believe in the power you wield, you'll fail at whatever you try to do, every time. All the time, I tell you to use your mind, but maybe that's a little misleading. It isn't the mind that uses the Force, it's the heart. Feel, don't think. Or, at least, don't think too hard." She let the lesson sink in for a few moments, then reached behind her to grab a handful of sand from a nearby bowl. "Let's try something a little different. I want you to move the cup again, but this time with a bit of a distraction." A quarter of the sand levitated from her hand and twirled in the air, twisting and turning in helix-like patterns. She nodded toward the cup.

Xel breathed out hard, knowing what she had in mind, and focused on that feeling of certainty once again, touching the Force and raising his hand to the cup, which started to move in the other direction. Just then, a sheet of sand obscured his vision, some of the particles stinging his eyes. He swatted at the storm with one hand, his concentration breaking at the annoyance and cup moving to a stop. His teeth clenched as he realized just how difficult this would be, and he reached out again as the sand approached. His eyes closed to remove that vulnerability. He didn't need them anyway. A dense cluster of sand flew near his nostrils, some of the particles flying in with an intake of breath and choking him. The cup stopped yet again.

"_Haar'chak_," he muttered.

"Language," Telia chided.

Xel's eyes rolled. He focused on the cup again, repeating the same cycle of attempt and failure for another ten minutes before throwing his hands up.

"How _exactly_ do you do this?" he asked, exasperated. "I mean, I've heard stories of Jedi fighting in the middle of sandstorms, doing _osik_ like this, and I figured it'd be a hell of a lot easier than this."

"The Jedi who are—were sent on those kinds of missions were Knights with years of training. You've barely had two weeks. Give it time, Xel, and work through your frustration. Don't let it get the better of you."

He sighed heavily. "Yes, _buir_."

…

Telia smiled to herself. Buir. _He called me _buir. Her smile widened as she reflected on it. In Mando'a, words were never by nature gender-specific, so the word for "father" was also the word for "mother." It was the first time he had called her that. Sure, he'd said "mother," or even "Mom," but never in Mando'a, and never with that tone of affection. As she sent another flight of sand past his head, she giggled a little, only partially annoyed that he was now swatting at the sand and acting mock outraged as he chased the cluster around the room, completely forgetting his task as his family looked on, the sand dropping to the ground a few moments later as both Telia and Alen doubled over with laughter.

With a few hearty laughs of his own, Xel waved his hand, sending the cup flying across the wide open space, right toward Alen, who ducked and spun as it careened into a wall, shattering on contact. He cringed, but was still grinning as he turned back to them, the same expressions on their faces.

"Oops."

…

1 week later

"Clear your mind."

Xel huffed, anger rising, as he breathed deeply once again, lifting the cylinder in his hands and staring at the white-and-red orb floating in front of him. His thumb lifted off the cylinder only to depress a small, round button near its top, sending a sapphire blade shooting from its sharply angled tip. He focused in the Force yet again, trying desperately to feel once again the tiny push that had put him on a roll with this _shabla_ device. Xel was no stranger to pain during training, but the sharp stings this remote delivered dealt more psychological damage than physical. His frustration was rising with every passing second, and Telia knew it. Xel's instincts told him she would stop this element of his training if he didn't improve soon, and he desperately didn't want that.

Xel raised his brother's lightsaber to a two-handed ready stance, and Telia motioned with her hand, activating the remote and sending it circling around her son. Xel turned with it, his eyes watching its every twitch, memorizing its structure as he waited for its inevitable attack. Telia sighed to herself. He was missing the point of the exercise. To demonstrate this, she silently activated another remote and used the Force to guide it directly behind him. A sharp zap tagged Xel in the back, and he yelped as he spun toward the new threat, leaving himself exposed to the original remote.

The two remotes laid down a nearly constant pattern of shots, only a few every dozen deflected by the boy, who dove over a nearby couch for cover. Rolling her eyes again, Telia sent the remotes to pursue him, sending him groaning and yelping across the room. It would've been funny if she couldn't feel the emotions rolling off him in waves, turning from frustration to outright anger. Xel swung the saber wildly, batting one bolt after the next, but letting through as many as he stopped until Alen's lightsaber became a blur of interlocking spins. Telia's eyes widened as the blue light trail left behind by the blade practically eclipsed Xel's body, effectively putting a wall of light between him and the remotes.

A few seconds later, she powered down the remotes and watched as her son, heaving and scowling, closed down the saber, huffing past her and tossing the saber onto a nearby table.

"Xel, wait."

He stopped mid-stride.

"Where did you learn that move?"

He turned his head toward her. "What move?"

"That…disc defense. At the end."

He looked away for a moment before shrugging. "I didn't. It was just instinct. Instinct and calculation. I figured if I can't be precise with my deflection, I could just put up a wall."

She nodded slowly. "Then you just dipped into a Soresu technique without realizing it. It's called Circle of Shelter."

He shrugged noncommittally and started to walk away again. "Whatever."

Telia exhaled slowly and followed him. "Look, Xel, I powered up that second remote to prove a point. You weren't focusing in the Force, otherwise you'd have sensed that attack coming from behind. You need to learn to calm your mind, even in the heat of a fight, or one day you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a blaster bolt."

He spun toward her. "And what if I can't calm my mind? What if I don't care about your damned serenity? I don't _want_ to be a Jedi, I never have, and yet that's _exactly_ what you're trying to make me into." They were both silent for a while. "Tell me something. Is this the way you trained Dad, when you first learned he was Force-sensitive?"

"I—" she started, hesitating and downcasting her eyes. "No. It wasn't." She exhaled hard, slumping into a nearby chair. "I'm sorry, Xel. I'm trying. I really am."

A little of his hardness melted at her tone, and he leaned against the wall next to her. "I know." He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I'm sorry too. I know I'm not the easiest student—or person—to deal with all the time. It's just…_shab_, I don't know. I think…I think I need some air."

Telia didn't respond, only watched him as he went for the backdoor, catching a glimpse of a second figure in brown robes following him out.

…

Xel ran his fingers through his near-shoulder length hair, the loose black locks cast about in the mountain wind as he tried to clear his head. He no longer minded the cold, having learned how to channel the Force into his body to sustain himself in it, at least for a while. He didn't this time, though. He needed the wind to cool his frayed nerves, and at the moment, it was doing an okay job.

"Hey."

He spun toward the source of the voice, clenching his teeth involuntarily. "Sorry, _vod_, but if you're looking for conversation, I'm afraid you're in bad company."

"I wasn't," Alen replied, striding over to him and standing a few feet away, looking out onto the horizon and setting sun.

While Alen was distracted, Xel examined his brother. At moments like this, the older boy was the picture of serenity, the essence of a stoic Jedi. At others…not so much. Pondering this, Xel realized just how little he knew about the kid, and cursed himself for putting training above family. Before Xander had died, he would never have done such a thing.

"Hey," Xel said, disrupting Alen's perusal. "I…" His voice trailed off as Alen looked at him expectantly. _Damn it. Why is this so difficult?_ "Look, I don't think we got off on the right foot."

"Well, we didn't get off on the wrong one, either."

Xel shrugged. "Maybe not, but…we're family." He hesitated a moment before shaking his head. "Look, we don't know each other. We haven't for the last thirteen years." He outstretched his hand. "I'd like to rectify that."

Alen smiled and shook it. "Done. Just answer me one thing. If you don't want to be a Jedi, why are you learning about the Force? Or how to fight with a lightsaber, for that matter?"

"Well, like Mom said, I need to learn to hide myself from the Empire. Apart from that, the Force is another tool I can add to my belt, and in my business, that's always a good thing. As for the lightsaber stuff…" He crossed his arms. "Well, who says they're just for _jetiise_?"

Alen raised an eyebrow. "Fair enough." They were both silent a while, trying to think of anything to say.

"Look, can we just agree off the bat that this is an awkward situation?"

"I—think that would be appropriate, yes."

"Okay then." More silence.

"So," Alen said finally, "have you accessed the holocron on saber wielding yet? I mean, no offense, but it's pretty clear you're having some trouble."

"Well…no. I rarely access any of the holocrons. Damn guardians don't like my personality, apparently."

Alen smiled a little. "Don't worry, they'll get used to you. I definitely have."

"Well, you haven't had to spend training time around me. Not proud of it, but I've definitely noticed that I turn into a _shabla_ rancor when I'm in training, especially if I just can't get something."

"Hm." Alen stood in thought for a while. "Well, we could access it together. Something tells me the guardian'll respond differently if it's talkin' to a _group_ of students as opposed to just one."

"Maybe," Xel said thoughtfully. "But not right now."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"

The young Mando nodded toward the horizon, and his Jedi brother shifted his gaze only to widen it as he saw what Xel did.

"Oh," he breathed out, unable to say more, as the setting sun cast a gorgeous pattern of colors across the evening sky. They watched it together, perfectly content to stand in silence until night reigned.

…

"Welcome, Initiate, Padawan." The saber holocron guardian, a balding Jedi, nodded to each of them in turn, standing at ease as he awaited their query.

"Sir," Alen said, "we'd like to know about the Seven Forms."

The hologram nodded, raising his right hand to project several images depicting silhouettes in various positions, most of them holding some form of lightsaber. "Is there any particular entry you wish to hear first?"

Alen gave his brother a look. "Well, Xel here used a Soresu technique without even realizing it, so let's start there, see if it's a good fit for him."

"As you wish. Soresu, Form III." Several silhouette images came up depicting a Jedi fending off multiple armed opponents. "Developed in response to the mass usage of blaster weapons, Soresu revolves around the deflection and reflection of blaster bolts, and relies heavily on Force Sense to guide one's lightsaber in combat. It is perhaps the most solidly defensive style in the Seven Forms."

Alen suppressed a snicker at Xel's cringe. "Not you?"

"_So_ not me," Xel confirmed.

"Okay then, give us the rundown of the rest."

"Form I: Shii-Cho." Two duelists were projected. "The most ancient and basic form of lightsaber combat known to the Jedi, Shii-Cho is geared toward the disarmament of one's opponent through large, sweeping motions designed to distract and throw one's opponent off-balance. Shii-Cho favors aggressive action over passive counters."

"That's what you're learning now with the remotes," Alen added.

Xel nodded before motioning for the guardian to continue.

"Form II: Makashi." To duelists appeared once again, this time with one of them holding his saber in a one-handed fencing grip. "Designed as a counter to Shii-Cho, Makashi relies on precise strikes and firm defense to prevent being disarmed and assure exploitation of any weaknesses in the opponent's defenses. In recent memory, only a few have managed to master this form, as the sheer amount of control one must have is quite substantial. This has, unfortunately, led some to believe that Makashi is a 'dead' style."

Alen nudged his brother. "That's _my_ style."

Xel raised an eyebrow.

"Form IV: Ataru," the hologram continued, showing images of Jedi performing intense acrobatic feats in the middle of combat. "Heavily acrobatic, Ataru practitioners use the Force to enhance their vertical movements and keep opponents guessing by constantly jumping around them and raining quick strikes from all directions. As one might expect, this has clear advantages over sluggish or overly concentrated opponents, but often leaves the practitioner open to Force attacks.

"Form V is a branched Form, with two tiers, Shien and Djem So." The silhouettes projected this time were of both blaster and saber-wielding opponents, one saber-wielder focused on in particular. "Shien utilizes elements of both Soresu and Makashi to defend against multiple opponents with both blasters and sabers while keeping the user receptive to opportunities for counterattack. Allowing a Jedi to fend off attacks from all sides is useful for crowd control, especially in war zones. This trait made Form V especially useful during the Clone Wars, although most Shien practitioners died during the Battle of Geonosis. Designed as the 'perseverance form,' Shien essentially makes its user a Force-powered tank that is able to bide its time until an opportunity for counterattack presents itself."

Xel raised an eyebrow at that.

"Djem So is similar. A more advanced and aggressive aspect of Form V, Djem So uses power attacks and sheer brute force to hammer through an opponent's defenses while keeping their own up through Soresu drills. Although the elaborate, ornate motions most often employed in the style seem like unnecessary embellishments to the untrained eye, an opponent discovers very quickly, and fatally, if they are not careful, that every spin and flourish is executed to build power. Djem So can be used against opponents with various types of weapons, much like Shien, but the style is designed primarily for saber dueling. This is most effectively used by physically strong practitioners.

"Form VI: Niman." Images of a Jedi facing off against several opponents came to the front of the projections. "A systematic blending of Forms I, III, IV, and V, Niman was designed as a less individual fighting style with little weakness and a much less demanding training regimen. Ideal for Jedi with other primary occupations than combat, especially diplomats. The movements of this style are also often employed when a saber-wielder uses two lightsabers."

"Not many of those around these days," Alen said. "Dual-wielders, I mean." He looked away mournfully. "Not many Jedi, period."

Xel put a hand on his shoulder, but turned back to the holocron. "Please, continue."

The Jedi nodded. "Form VII: Juyo." The image of a Jedi leaping toward an opponent was plastered onto the screen, along with several vicious assaults in other settings. "A highly erratic and unpredictable form, Juyo uses deception and explosive movements to keep one's opponent constantly off-balance. The moment a gap appears in an opponent's defenses, the user can immediately exploit this weakness and potentially eviscerate their opponent."

The Mando raised an eyebrow. "That sounds…useful."

"Yeah," Alen replied, "but it's really tough to master."

"I, personally, practice Niman."

Both boys turned toward their approaching mother, who had a small smile on her face.

"So," Xel said thoughtfully, "balance, huh?"

She nodded slowly. "Balance."

Alen smiled, knowing there was far more going on than was apparent, and stood, pulling his lightsaber off his belt and handing it to Xel, nerf-leather grip first. "Ready to get back to it?"

Xel sighed, giving his brother an arched eyebrow, but took the proffered weapon. "You know, we should do that more often." He motioned to the inactive holocron.

"Right," Alen chuckled sarcastically, "because learning how best to swing a lightsaber is a _great_ bonding activity."

Xel shrugged. "Why not? Some of my closest friends on Mandalore were met during training."

As Alen chewed this over, Xel stepped back into the open central room, powering on his brother's saber and raising it to a ready position, facing the first remote as it approached, a gentle smile coming to his face as he thought of the headway he'd just made with his brother. Suddenly, it all just…came to him. The saber moved like lightning, intercepting one shot after the next as he let the Force flow. Both observers' eyebrows shot up, and ten minutes later, he was deflecting bolts from two sources at once, hardly breaking a sweat as he alternated sides of defense. The remotes finally powered down, and he deactivated the lightsaber, grinning at his audience.

"That was…how did you just do that?"

"I dunno, _vod_. If I had to guess, though, I'd say…" He smiled widely. "Interesting," he said, more to himself.

Alen and Telia exchanged an amused look.

"Well," Telia said, "whatever it was, you think you could get there again?"

He smiled. "Easily."

"Excellent."

…

2 days later

Xel's teeth sunk into a flavorless ration bar as Alen did the same, the older boy grimacing as he chewed it.

"How do you _not_ hate this stuff?"

"How do you _not_ hate meditating?"

Alen paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Touché."

Xel looked up at the mountain peak facing them, pondering the massive distance they'd already climbed. He hadn't been completely out of armor for this long in years, and he had to admit, he felt vulnerable, practically naked. Until the Force holocron taught him to properly create and maintain Force Shields around himself, he would probably still feel that way. Telia had sent them on this climb to teach Xel to rely on the Force to maintain and regenerate his body when under large amounts of stress. Thus far, his considerable stamina from years of Mando training and months of bounty hunting had been enough that he didn't have to. Even Alen, who had far more experience with this, seemed a little more ragged than his brother.

"All right," Alen said as he rose to his feet, "this mountain isn't gonna climb itself." He offered Xel a hand.

The younger boy took it, pulling himself to his feet and brushing himself off. He was wearing one of Alen's many robes, and none too happy about it. _I look terrible in brown._

"You could be wearing tan."

Xel glared at his twin. "Thought I told you guys to stop doing that."

"Thought we told you to keep your thoughts hidden if you didn't want us looking."

With that, Xel consciously slammed the door on his mind, a very strange feeling that had taken some time to get used to. Eventually, Telia had told him, he would be able to keep that door closed subconsciously, with several locks that, if broken, would alert him to forced entry. The Force was a whole new world beyond the one he knew so well, and despite the dark cloud of having to hide his presence, Xel couldn't help but love learning as much as he could. Of course, there were always the walls he would run up against.

Telekinesis was coming fairly easily now, but calming his mind seemed supremely impractical in combat. The holocron guardian had warned him against the dangers of emotion when it came to using the Force, but as they all knew, neither Xel, nor anyone else in his family, believed in serenity at the cost of humanity. The guardian sensed this from time to time and shut down as a result, but Xel had managed to advance his knowledge of the Force in leaps and bounds nonetheless. Even Alen had acknowledged that his brother had considerable aptitude for the Jedi Arts.

"I don't want to be a Jedi," he'd said.

Alen had laughed. "Nor would I want you to. You'd be a _terrible_ Jedi."

Now, they were alternating between climbing and cooperating, Xel's superior physical strength serving to help his brother along, though the young Jedi was no weakling. The Mando reached for a handhold on a nearly vertical surface, cool confidence flooding him as they steadily scaled the rock wall. His foot landed on a corner, giving him leverage to make a small jump to an even higher hold.

"You all right, brother?"

He glanced down at Alen. "Fine. Let's just get this done. I may not hate those ration bars, but I'm ready for some _real_ food."

"I'll second that," Alen grumbled, channeling the Force and leaping up ten feet to a craggy outcrop and holding on tight.

"Oi! No fair!"

Alen sent him a toothy grin.

Xel rolled his eyes. _You think you're hot stuff?_ Xel called on the Force, letting it flow and fill him until he felt that supreme high he'd first felt when facing the remotes. The boy channeled it all into his legs, feeling the currents swirling around his body, and leapt. Alen's gaping expression was all he could see as he zipped past, leaping a full fifteen feet ahead of his brother, a total distance of twenty-five feet. Of course, he was so focused on the distance that he didn't realize he had nothing to grab onto until he started falling. Out of reflex, his right index slammed on his left forearm, launching a grappling hook from the gauntlet he'd hidden under his robe's sleeve. The metal head dug into the rock just above him, anchoring him solidly and keeping him suspended long enough to grab a more solid support.

"What exactly is your definition of fair, Xel?!"

"Well, I _could've_ been using it to scale the mountain a lot faster," he called back, "but instead I just kept it as a backup. Safety first, _ner vod_." He gave Alen a cheeky smile and a thumbs-up, prompting a deadpanned look from his brother as the Jedi climbed to his level. "How about this? Whoever makes it to the top first gets to learn a secret from the loser. Don't worry, I'll continue not to use the grapple except in emergencies."

Alen narrowed his eyes. "You're on."

Xel grinned. "Perfect."

The brothers had been growing closer for the past two days since their initial foray into "bridge-building," but there were still topics that seemed…unspeakable. After all, though they were family by blood, the twins were strangers to each other, and as Mandos always say, _aliit ori'shya tal'din_: family is more than blood. Mando-raised or not, they both knew this, so Alen understood the meaning behind his gesture.

"All right," Xel said, coiling up for a "vertical sprint," "on my mark. Three-two-one-go!"

And like that, they were off, scrambling for handholds and making their way steadily upward. The Force spoke to their minds and limbs, guiding them to safe holds and paths up the mountain's surface. In mere minutes, the peak was in sight, and they were still neck and neck. _This might just be a tie._

"_Not if I can help it," _Alen thought to him, too out of breath and focused to say it aloud. He coiled up and Force Jumped another twenty feet to a slippery handhold, channeling the Force into his grip to keep from falling.

Xel's heart dropped as he watched his brother dangle precariously, and he paused for a moment, scanning the area above to see a more secure route to his level, then leaping the distance there. Once his grip was secure, he shimmied across the cliffside to Alen's position, firing his grapple into the wall next to his left hand and using the cable as an anchor to lean back and offer his hand. Alen struggled with his position for a few more seconds before sighing and reaching for Xel. The Mando's grip was as strong as ever despite their vigorous climb, as was the Jedi's, and Alen knew his brother had learned the lesson.

"You all right?"

Alen gave out another sigh at his own failure and impatience. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He laughed nervously. "You know, I half-expected you to just leave me there."

Xel gave him a piercing, narrow-eyed look. "I'm competitive, not homicidal. And you're my brother." He reached for a higher hold and hoisted himself up another two feet, stopping to look down at Alen. "Family always comes first."

Alen opened his mouth to speak before shutting it and joining in the climb much more cautiously. It seemed Xel had had enough close calls too. Finally, they both slammed their palms onto the peak, a relatively flat plateau, and pulled themselves onto solid ground, collapsing a second later in exhaustion. Force or no Force, they were only human. The brothers exchanged a long look before breaking into laughter.

"Good job, bro," Alen breathed out, raising a fist in his direction. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

Xel just bumped his fist with his own, focusing on keeping his breathing regular. Night was falling, temperatures were dropping, and the air on this mountain was thin enough as-is. Xel looked at Alen when he was unable to speak.

"I know."

"We should…we should get back." Xel struggled to his feet, brushing dust off his robes as Alen joined him with a nod.

Before either of them could move, though, a loud roar reached their ears and a rugged-looking ship descended from the clouds.

"What the hell?!"

The exit ramp opened and four figures leapt out, dropping ten feet to roll and shoulder weapons.

"Oh _shab_," Xel breathed out. He recognized this bunch.

"Been a while, Mando," the toughest-looking of the group, a burly, scarred Sakiyan said. "Or should I say, Jedi."

Xel arched an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. "Really? Have you ever even _heard_ of a Mandalorian Jedi?"

"First time for everything."

"You…know these guys?" Alen asked his brother.

Xel crossed his arms, less than intimidated by their weaponry. "Unfortunately, yes. These are the _shabuire_ who tried to pressure me into joining their little crew when I first got here."

"When you said no, I got to thinkin'. Why would a Mandalorian refuse good pay, good comrades, and a good old nomadic life?"

"Did you find an answer?"

"'Cause he's a wanted man, that's why. Hence the 'low profile.' I decided to follow you, and it's a good thing too. See, my men and I have been out of work for quite a while, and for mercs, that's a very bad thing. Fortunately for us—and quite unfortunately for you—you have quite a sizable bounty on your head by nature of existing."

"Okay, let's play this out logically then." Xel sounded and genuinely _was_ annoyed at this point. "Jedi carry lightsabers, yes?"

"They wouldn't if they were trying to hide their identity."

Xel raised his hands to indicate the mountain. "From who? Who is there to fool up here?"

The Sakiyan was silent a while, and Xel could feel the gears turning in his head, his previously solid conclusion starting to evaporate until his gaze shifted to Alen. He gave Xel a nasty smile. "Even if you're not a Jedi, _he _is."

Xel's blood ran cold as his eyes closed with a sigh, his right eye flickering open for barely a moment to see the silver and black cylinder hanging from his brother's belt. "Well…_osik_." He bolted diagonally toward them, trying to close the distance before bolts started flying, but before he could, a stun bolt slammed into his leg, completely shutting it down and causing him to collapse onto his elbows. A blazing _snap-hiss_ alerted Xel to Alen's entry of the fight, the young Jedi deflecting bolt after bolt as Xel desperately tried to get his limbs to wake up. Alen was good, but there was no way he could fend them all off at once, especially since they all split up in opposite directions, two of them flanking his brother, one at his front.

_Wait, where's four?_

"Nighty night, Mando."

A flash of black, scaly skin was all he saw before another stun bolt rendered him unconscious.

…

"_Shabla osik_," Xel groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, his eyes snapping open to see his darkened surroundings. _Cargo hold._ He snarled. _Classy._ He groaned again, trying to push himself to his feet only to find his hands cuffed behind his back. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Unfortunately not."

His eyes snapped to the source of the voice, straining against the dark to see a familiar silhouette. "Alen!"

"Yeah, I'm okay. A little the worse for wear, maybe, but alive."

He heard his brother's groan as he too got to his feet. "How'd they get you?"

"Stun bolt to the back. Saw it coming. Wasn't fast enough."

"Don't worry about it. We'll get outta this."

"I know. I'm just worried about Mom."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "Mom?"

"What if these guys found out about her too? What if they told someone?"

"They wouldn't," Xel said with certainty. "Trust me, as a bounty hunter, I know there's nothing worse than competition swiping your target. Unfortunate as it is, Jedi are the juiciest bounties, so naturally they would produce more competition."

Alen sighed in relief.

"Don't relax just yet. We're still in trouble, and if these mercs do realize they can't take us on their own, they'll definitely go running to the Empire."

"Right," he said resolutely, tugging at his cuffs and focusing the Force on uncoupling them.

…

He was at this for less than a second before the door of the hold opened, letting in light and five mercs.

"So," the leader said, "what are Jedi worth these days, like twenty mill?"

"Fifty," another responded, "alive anyway."

The leader nodded slowly as if pondering something. "Alive doesn't necessarily mean intact, though."

Xel scowled and stepped between them and his brother. "You're not touching him," he snarled.

The Sakiyan chuckled. "And who's gonna stop us, you? You're cuffed without use of your hands, out of armor, with no weapons. What're you gonna do?"

Xel's eyes narrowed. "You _di'kut_. The armor doesn't make the man, and nature gave me fists and teeth. Since I don't have my fists, I'll just have to use my teeth."

"Uh huh," he mocked, motioning to two mercs.

Both brothers snapped into action, Xel barreling toward the one on the left and slamming his shoulder into the man's gut as Alen jump-kicked the other in the jaw. The rest of the mercs rushed in, their sheer mass slowing the twins down enough that they were restrained at opposite sides of the ten-foot room in a matter of seconds, the Sakiyan cracking his knuckles threateningly.

"So, which one first?"

"You lay a _finger_ on him and I will gut you!"

"With what blade?"

The merc backhanded Xel hard, knocking him to the ground as he roared back, landing a solid kick on his gut as Alen yelled at them. The Jedi had the wind knocked out of him a moment later by the same man, who laid into his face with vicious blows. Blood streamed from a busted lip and broken nose as Xel roared from his place, rising with almost inhuman strength and delivering a hard thrust kick to the side of the leader's knee. The Sakiyan shrieked in pain before wheeling on him and driving a hard cross into the side of Xel's head. He flopped back, his body going limp as Alen looked on in horror, barely glimpsing a bright flash of metal fall from the merc leader's pocket.

His eyes widened as his lightsaber bounced twice, the cylinder kicked behind the unconscious Xel by the shuffling feet of the oblivious captain. If he could reach it with the Force…

That idea fled with the reintroduction of his captor's fists to his body. _I'm sorry, Xel,_ he thought as the pain started to overwhelm him and black spots swam in the edges of his vision.

…

_Fools,_ Xel mocked mentally. Contrary to what everyone else in the room believed, Xel hadn't been knocked out, only faked it to escape their attention. As his right eye cracked open, he saw that his two restrainers had swallowed his act and released him, stepping toward their leader to watch the show. He scowled hard, silently bringing himself up into a sitting position. A clink from behind caught his attention, and he spotted the lightsaber rolling into the wall. Xel couldn't reach it from where he was, and he didn't trust himself to move quietly enough to get there.

As Alen yelped with another impact, red-hot sparks filled him, and his fingers reflexively stretched out toward the saber. _Come on, idiot, think!_ The answer came to him in a whisper. He took a deep breath, fighting to drown out the screams of his beaten brother. Then he stopped, letting them ring loud and clear, letting the fire inside increase and anger permeate every fiber of his being. Serenity was a lie at that moment, a goal as far and unreachable as the ghosts of past dead. His eyes fluttered closed as his fingers stretched out yet again, this time in expectance instead of desperation. In his mind's eye, he could see his brother look in his direction with the eye that wasn't swollen closed, hope and wonder filling him and momentarily drowning out the pain.

Just like that, the Force was there, watching, waiting. He focused on it, gritting his teeth harder and harder until there was nothing but his rage, the Force, and the lightsaber. He pictured the saber in his hand, believing with every fiber of his being that Alen would die without him.

And he let the Force flow.

The impact of leather on skin startled him a bit, but not nearly enough to distract him.

_Snap-hiss._

The blue blade sliced through his cuffs instantly as he shot to his feet, cutting down the men who'd restrained him within less than a second, then snapping his attention to the Sakiyan, who drew a blaster from his right hip and fired twice. His arms snapped like lightning, the blade batting both bolts aside as he snarled in rage and threw the weapon end over end, its shaft imbedding itself in his target. Xel dove toward his falling body as the last two mercs let his brother go, ignoring the distinct thump of Alen's body hitting the floor to snatch up the captain's blaster. As he rolled to a crouch, a pair of double-taps finished off his targets, and he reached over to Alen's fallen saber to thumb it on.

Walking to his brother, he crouched down and carefully cut his cuffs before closing down the weapon and taking his pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief. _Thank the _Manda_._

"Alen." He gently shook the teen. "Alen, come on, _ner vod_, talk to me."

"Still...here," he groaned back.

Xel exhaled hard and smiled. "Good man. Come on now." He slung his brother's arm over his shoulder, hoisting his body upright as he sluggishly put one foot after the next on their way to the cockpit.

...

"Where the hell _were_ you two?!" Telia's next exclamation died on her lips when she saw Alen's condition as Xel half-carried him down the ramp of the unfamiliar ship. "Oh, Force." She dashed toward them, supporting Alen's other side as they carried him into the house.

"Looks...worse than it is, Ma."

"The hell it does," she scolded, grabbing a first aid kit and stabbing a painkiller into his neck. When Alen's nose had been splinted and his other injuries tended to, she spun to Xel and glanced over his injuries in a half-second, noting a few swelling spots but nothing much more serious...that he was showing. Her eyes narrowed. "You. Explain."

Xel looked at her incredulously. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who can talk."

"What're you talkin' about?" Alen slurred. "I'm still conscious."

Telia's eyes warmed as she put a hand on his shoulder. "Not anymore." Her hand lifted to the side of his head, and his body went limp a second later. She gingerly lowered him into a nearby chair, making sure he would wake up comfortably before turning to Xel. "Jedi healing trance. Now, spill."

He told her about the hunters and how they'd used him to track them down. Xel also made sure to tell her that they were all very much dead, excluding the details of their escape. His mental shields were going at full strength, and he chose his words carefully. There was no way he wanted her to know how much he lost control of his emotions. No, he didn't lose control, he consciously _chose_ to use them, and quite specifically every single one she and the holocrons had warned him against.

"So," she said when he finished, "you and your brother were captured, held, and nearly beaten to death by a team of bounty hunters, and the only reason we're even having this conversation is because you managed to get your brother's lightsaber and cut your way to freedom."

He shrugged. "Essentially."

Her smaller hands grasped his. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

His eyes widened. _How does she know?_ Xel didn't even realize he'd let his shields slip.

"Because I'm your mother." She smirked. "And because you are, at heart, very much your father's son." She looked away, smiling in reminiscence. "He never believed in the power of serenity. Thought that closing yourself off from emotion was the fastest way to lose yourself, to lose who you were." Telia shook her head as memories flew through her mind.

Subconsciously, some of them flew across their Force Bond, and Xel's eyes went wide as he was suddenly given a second pair of eyes. Xander stood on the hull of a starship in..._silver_ armor, looking out on a jungle world. A feminine hand reached for his shoulder, and he turned toward the source, smiling in a way Xel had never even seen. _So...this is what the gray meant._ His eyes slammed shut as he tried to block out the visions, his eyes burning with tears. A hand on his shoulder followed the disappearance of the vision.

"Xel, I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

He raised a hand. "It's all right," he choked out. "I just...his armor. It was gray when I knew him."

The wide-eyed expression on her face told him she knew the color's significance.

"He sacrificed his life with you...for me." Xel's fists clenched. "I...I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Telia's grip tightened before she pulled him into a hug. "I know, Xel." Her hands stroked through his hair as he returned the embrace, her lips pressing against the top of his head. "But you were worth it." She pulled away and looked into his reddened eyes. "You _are_ worth it."

* * *

><p>AN: Seeing as how it's the holidays (even if I don't celebrate them) and I'm feeling charitable, I'm releasing two chapters today. Enjoy and don't forget to review and recommend.<p>

Musical Inspirations:

Star Wars: A New Hope - Tales of a Jedi Knight: start-0:45: Xel touches the Force

Star Wars: TOR - Tython Wellspring: training

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back – The Wampa's Lair: start-1:40: cargo hold beating to Xel's rampage


	9. Training, Part II

"He sacrificed his life with you...for me." Xel's fists clenched. "I...I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Telia's grip tightened before she pulled him into a hug. "I know, Xel." Her hands stroked through his hair as he returned the embrace, her lips pressing against the top of his head. "But you were worth it." She pulled away and looked into his reddened eyes. "You _are_ worth it."

...

1 month later

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 5 months BBY

"Ah, hello, Initiate."

Xel sighed as he sat down hard in front of the Force holocron. "Really wish you would stop calling me that. I'm not even a Jedi."

"Even so, you are still an initiate in the ways of the Force. Now, where were we last time?"

"I think we had just gotten to Force Shields."

The holographic Jedi stroked his beard as if in thought. "Maybe, but a little review never hurt anyone," he said almost flippantly.

Xel groaned internally. _Except me and my sanity._ "Well then," he said in the same tone, "by all means."

"Excellent. First off, Force Sense: the primary connection of any Force-user to their source of power. Sense allows the user to detect focal points of Force energy, as well as other Force-users. This also enables anticipation of attacks, danger, and sometimes the future, depending on the user's power and the will of the Force."

"Yes, yes," Xel said impatiently, "I know this already. That was, like, the _first_ thing I learned."

"Review never hurt anyone," the Jedi reminded him, "but I suppose we could move on a bit further."

Xel squinted and scratched his head. "Let me ask you somethin'. Do you _enjoy_ tormenting your students?"

The master smiled slightly and let out a slight chuckle. "Force Speed: enhances the running and/or motor speed of the user based on focus and power. Force Push: a basic self-defense power for all Force-users, this directs a concentrated blast of kinetic energy at a single or multiple opponents, depending on both the power and intent of the user. Force Grip: a telekinetic ability common to all Force-users, Grip can be used to lift and move heavier objects than physically possible. Records indicate that some of the most powerful Force-users are capable of ripping kilometer-sized warships from the sky. This can also be used passively as reinforcement of one's physical strength through tactile telekinesis.

"Force Jump: a Force power that gives the user the ability to leap great heights and distances. Also known as Force Leap. Force Focus: passive power that enhances all physical and mental attributes of the user through intense focus of one's Force energies. This ability is less likely to be used by Dark Jedi and Sith due to the extreme emotional nature of their philosophy." The master noted the slight narrowing of Xel's eyes, but continued. "Force Persuasion: allows the user to influence and even control other, weaker minds. This can be used to temporarily turn loyalties or even wipe memories. Force Shield: allows the user to deflect, reflect, or simply block anything from heat to solid objects to Force powers, and even blaster bolts, depending on user focus and power."

"I need to learn that one as quickly as humanly possible. I feel naked outside my armor."

The Jedi arched an eyebrow. "Armor, eh?" He motioned with his arms a few times, sending a half dozen holographic images flittering past. "There is a more advanced form of Force Shield called Force Armor. It's more advanced and effectively puts the user in a second skin of kinetic energy. It's used primarily to defend against physical impacts, but high-level practitioners can deflect blaster bolts and other advanced weapons."

"I see..." Xel grinned and crossed his arms. "Probably never measures up to _beskar'gam_, though."

The master sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes, we all know you're proud of your special armor."

"But please, continue."

"Finally," the hologram said in an exasperated tone, "Force Absorb. This is by far the most difficult 'neutral' ability to master, and allows full absorption of nearly any kind of energy, including that found in blaster bolts, Force Lightning and even Curse. Also known as Tutaminis."

"Woah. Woah-woah-woah, back up. Lightning? _Curse_? What the hell are those?"

The Jedi's expression turned deadly serious. "Above your level."

Xel's eyes narrowed. "Of power or clearance?"

"Both. This holocron has data on Sith abilities, but those will not be cleared for you to access unless you are knighted or your master gives explicit instructions otherwise."

Xel looked away. "Right. So, if I, oh, I don't know, have to fight one, I'll have no idea what I'm up against where power's concerned."

"It's for your own good, to prevent—"

"To prevent me from learning too much too fast and become obsessed with power, yes?"

The Jedi seemed a little stunned. "Well…yes."

Xel shrugged with a frown. "Makes sense. Doesn't mean I don't find it a little impractical, especially with the Sith in control of the galaxy."

"Perhaps." They were both silent a while. "Shall we move on?"

"Yes, that would be best."

"First off, you should know that nearly every neutral power has more advanced or specialized forms."

Xel's eyebrow raised. "Oh? Do tell. Unless, of course, I'm barred."

The guardian gave him a snarky look. "Under the, shall we say, 'tree' of Force Push, we have three variations. Force Blast: a much more intense version of Force Push, Blast causes a telekinetic explosion at the target with enough force to shatter 2-inch thick solid durasteel. This is typically built-up over a few seconds with focus. Force Wave emits a wave of kinetic energy in a single direction, blowing aside anything in its path. This can be used in a single thrust or constant push. Force Repulse is by far the most difficult, and is a power that sends an explosion of kinetic energy in all directions from the user."

"That sounds…useful. All three, I mean. When can I learn those?"

"When you've mastered Force Push."

"Right. Start at the roots, right?"

"Precisely. Under Grip lie two abilities: Force Throw and Saber Throw. Force Throw is a specialized version of Grip that is used primarily in combat, allowing the user to toss various objects at an opponent. Saber Throw is—"

"When you toss a lightsaber and call it back," he interrupted. He shrugged. "Pretty self-explanatory."

"Precisely. Under Throw, there is another more advanced form: ballistakinesis. Ballistakinesis involves accelerating small, usually harmless objects to lethal speeds, effectively using the Force as an invisible slug thrower."

Xel's eyebrows shot up. "Woah."

"Yes, it's quite powerful in the right hands, but few ever take the time or effort to learn it. It's far easier to use larger objects."

"Right. More force-slash-momentum."

"Precisely."

"So what else?"

"Well, you already know about Force Armor, but there is another form of Shield called Reflect. As one might expect, Force Reflect is an advanced ability that allows the user to deflect and even redirect blaster bolts at the shooter. It can also be used to redirect other forms of energy, like Force Lightning and fire."

Xel's eyes narrowed again. "You mentioned Lightning again."

"So I did."

"So, Sith can create lightning."

"Some, yes," he admitted. "It is a difficult ability to master, but quite powerful and difficult to defend against without use of a lightsaber."

"What do you mean?"

The Jedi sighed. "Well, I suppose there's no danger so long as you don't know the details…" He refocused on Xel. "If you ever, by some terrible stroke of Fate, find yourself up against a Sith with this ability, focus on your lightsaber and keep it between you and them. Because its blade is effectively made of frozen light, a lightsaber is slightly polarized to keep the shaft from collapsing or becoming unstable. It is this polarity that attracts the electrons disturbed during a lightning strike."

"So the saber would absorb the incoming lightning."

"Exactly."

Caden stroked his chin in thought. "Awesome."

The Jedi smiled. "Glad you think so, and see? We're not all 'mystical monks.'"

Xel blushed furiously.

The guardian laughed. "There's quite a bit of rational thought that goes into being a Jedi, and using a lightsaber is just as much science as art."

"Okay, question. What if I go up against a Sith with knowledge of Force Lightning and _don't_ have a lightsaber?"

He raised an eyebrow. "At this point in time, with your level of experience?" He leaned toward Xel for emphasis. "Run."

Xel looked off at a wall and thought about it for a second before shrugging. "Fair enough." He was quiet a while. "Exactly how much damage can Lightning do?"

The master hesitated. "Depending on the user, it can be anywhere from a static shock to the full power of a lightning bolt…sustained."

Caden cringed. "Ouch."

"It is, to the untrained or unprepared victim, painfully lethal."

"And I'm guessing _beskar_ won't protect very much against that."

"Unless you've found a way to make metal non-conductive, no."

"_Shab_."

"Quite right."

They were silent a while. "Anything else you want me to know?"

"Not about that."

"Right, no, I mean, on the 'neutrals.'"

"Ah. Well, there is one more advanced technique called Force Sight. Related to Force Sense, it allows the user to recreate a scene in their mind based on the latent Force energy of the living beings involved in what happened. This can also be used if the beings in question have just died."

"So…someone who uses that could recreate, say, a murder scene in his mind, like a mental hologram or security cam."

"Precisely. This was very useful to investigative Jedi before the Order was destroyed. One notable account was Master Quinlan Vos." He did a double-take at the scowl Xel shot him. "What is wrong, Initiate?"

"I dunno if you heard the whole truth about Vos during the Clone Wars, but…" He shook his head. "He was an arrogant _hut'uun_,from what my dad told me. Treated his troops like slaves."

"That…is not the Jedi way."

Xel sneered. "Wasn't much of a Jedi. Went 'dark' at some point. Lot of people, mostly clones, wished the Jedi had killed him instead of bringing him back to the Light."

"That is not the Jedi way."

"Well, in case you can't tell, I don't give a vrelt's _shebs_ about the Jedi way." He crossed his arms. "And neither did my _buir_." They were both silent a while.

"I think that's enough for one day," the guardian said at last.

"Yeah," Xel agreed, standing up and reaching over to the holocron. "Thanks for the lesson."

"It was no problem."

The hologram winked out of existence before Xel slumped back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"You know, that last ability, Sight, I can do that sometimes."

Xel's blue eyes snapped to the doorway on his right to see Alen standing there toweling off his hands. His injuries from their encounter with the bounty hunters had healed relatively quickly, as Telia had predicted, but the slight crook in his formerly broken nose was quite evident. Jedi healing trances were quite useful, as she'd proven, but when Xel could no longer feel his brother's pulse, he nearly panicked. She'd assured him he was alive and encouraged him to feel his life in the Force, which he did with relief.

"At distance," she'd said, "this becomes more difficult, even with a Force Bond such as the one we share."

"So, if you were on another planet and decided to go into this…trance, I wouldn't be able to tell if you were alive."

"Exactly, but you would know if I was dead."

"How…does that make any sense?"

"Tell me something, Xel…when Xander died, what did you feel?"

His eyes had gone wide in recognition. "Like my heart was being torn out."

"I…felt something similar, but not quite as powerful. I suppose it was the distance. That's why I couldn't be sure, even if I couldn't feel the other end of our Bond. Maybe I just didn't want to believe it. When you told me, though…"

Xel snapped himself back to the present and rose from his seat. "You ever gotten an opportunity to try it out?"

Alen shrugged. "Yeah, once or twice. Still pretty difficult for me, and before you ask, no, I haven't tried it on a crime scene yet."

Caden's eyebrows furrowed. "What then?"

Alen sucked his lower lip into his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile.

"What did you do?" Xel asked with a roll of his eyes.

"I kind of…" He snickered. "The cookie jar."

"Huh?"

"When I was younger. Mom would always hide the cookie jar in different places 'cause no matter what, I could always find a way to reach it. When I found out about Force Sight from the holocron, I tried it out. Took me six months to pull it off, but I finally did it. Had to make Mom move the jar first though."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "Why's that?"

"Force Sight only works if there's latent Force energy to interpret. Essentially, whatever you're seeing has to have been done fairly recently, otherwise it won't work."

"Gotcha…so even the Force has limits."

"Well…no. The Force has _no_ limits. We do. We're vessels for its power, or conduits, depending on how you look at it. The quality of that vessel determines how much Force power we can wield. In this case, latent Force energy doesn't stick around forever, so even the most talented practitioners would be stumped by a cold case."

"Makes sense." Xel turned away and thought for a while. "Would you…nah."

"What?"

He made eye contact. "Would you like to spar?"

Alen's eyebrows went up. "Like, hand-to-hand or—?"

"Or."

The Jedi shrugged and nodded. "Sure. You'd need a saber, though."

"That won't be a problem."

Both boys smiled at the new arrival, who was brushing snow out of her robes as she pulled back her hood. Telia reached for her belt, unclipping her lightsaber and handing it to Xel. "Use mine."

"Thanks, _buir_."

She smiled warmly as she stepped aside to give them room.

"You ready to get your _shebs_ handed to you?"

Alen rolled his eyes and grinned. "What did I say about mouthing off?"

"Just shut up and fight, I know."

Two blades sprang to life with identical _snap-hisses_ as emerald and sapphire faced off, crossing in an Aggressive Neutral position after activating the weapons' secondary "training" modes.

"Don't take it easy on me, _vod_."

"If I don't, it won't be a fair fight."

"If I'm up against a Sith, you really think they'll care?"

Alen opened his mouth silently.

"Train for realism, _vod_. It's the only way to be truly prepared." Xel raised Telia's saber hilt to his shoulder, the blade angled straight upward in Defensive Neutral. "Now come on."

Alen saluted with his blade before thrusting forward in a seamless, one-handed stab. Xel spun his right wrist counter-clockwise, deflecting the blow to the side with his blade angled down before snapping his wrist upward, angling the blade forward and thrusting. Alen sidestepped the strike with ease, twirling around his brother and aiming several slashes at his shoulder and legs. Xel's quick reflexes paid off as he avoided one strike after the next, parrying and dodging in equal amounts.

"You're holding back," Xel pointed out.

"No," Alen retorted, "I'm warming up."

A quick stab at Caden's midsection was blocked, but Alen turned the sideways momentum into a turn, swinging upward and right before snapping back in the blink of an eye in a neckward slash. Xel ducked under the strike, using his crouched position to roll to his brother's left side, cutting at his legs and hitting empty air as Alen leapt over the green blade. Unfortunately, his position also left him vulnerable to a falling side-kick that sent him rolling across the floor. Quickly regaining his balance, Caden rose to his feet, withdrawing rapidly as Alen went on the attack. A thrust was redirected and countered with a wide slash.

Alen ducked the strike and returned a slice of his own. Xel angled his midsection backward to avoid being hit, the heat of the blade felt through his shirt even though it was not currently lethal. The Mando caught Alen's blade with his own, pushing their lock to the side and shoving his shoulder against his brother's, knocking him back a step. Alen called on the Force and somersaulted over Xel's head, but his opponent shifted his grip underhandedly and stabbed backward. If he hadn't seen it coming, Alen would have lost the match. As it were, the tip of Xel's blade shot past his face by inches, and Alen closed the distance rapidly, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him forward. Xel rolled and spun back toward him, twisting around a thrust and spinning 360 degrees to deliver a powerful horizontal strike.

Alen's guard was battered away by the blow for barely a moment before he readjusted, aiming to redirect rather than block his brother's attacks. As their duel progressed, Alen's eyes narrowed at Xel's change of approach. His movements were large, wide, and sweeping, almost exaggerated. It was like he was trying to give him an opening. Wary, Alen decided to take him up on his offer, dodging another wide strike and closing the distance with a ducking slash at his midsection. Faster than he thought possible, Xel brought his blade back in the opposite direction to Alen's strike, and only a quick pivot on Alen's part kept his saber in his hand.

The surprise on Alen's face was priceless in Xel's eyes, and his grin betrayed his thoughts as the Jedi suddenly found himself on the defensive as color flooded his cheeks. "Thought Makashi was supposed to _counter_ Shii-Cho."

"Shut up," Alen scolded, embarrassed.

Before he could say more, Xel pressed the attack with several progressively more powerful vertical strikes, finishing with a leap and downward slash on his way down. Spotting this, Alen twisted and rolled to the side, calling on the Force to keep his breathing and heart regulated as sweat streamed down both their bodies. Xel settled into a relentless plan of attack, not letting up for a second or giving his brother an opening. His blade was a blur of emerald light, Alen's having to move just as fast to stay in the game. Finally, the Jedi was backed into a corner. Xel charged with a diagonally upward strike, spinning mid-step to add power.

Alen waited until the last possible instant to step to the side and angle his blade vertically, redirecting Xel's strike away from his body and giving him the opening he needed. A rising cut to the midsection won him the match. To him, Xel's gaping expression of disbelief was just as priceless.

"You still got a lot to learn, little brother."

Xel glowered at him as he closed down Telia's saber. "Hey, I held my own." He rolled his eyes at Alen's smirk and raised eyebrows. "Let me guess, you were holding back." A snicker on his brother's part confirmed this as he walked away. "_Shabuir_. I told you not to."

"I know," he laughed as he wiped his face off, "I just couldn't help myself."

Xel glared at him as Telia watched them impassively. "Try harder then. I need to know my limits, and I'm not gonna find them with you jerking me around." He strode out of the room, handing Telia her saber as he made his exit.

Alen turned to his mother, who was giving him a disapproving expression. "What?"

"He's right, you know."

"Oh come on. You can't expect me to just cut loose. I don't want to crush him."

Telia shook her head, eyes closed. "He's not like you, Alen. His father raised him to be _mandokarla_. A lot encompasses that word. Toughness, skill, strength, and most importantly, determination." She sighed and leaned back against a nearby wall. "Mandalorians have a saying that I think sums up our necessary approach perfectly. _Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore_: pressure makes gems, ease makes decay. Do you see? He _needs_ to be crushed to some degree, Alen. It's the way he was trained, and probably the only way he'll really learn."

"I…I see." Alen looked away, silent for a while. "I will…meditate on this."

"See that you do."

…

2 days later

"Anger can't solve everything."

"No, but neither can serenity. When I was on that ship with you getting clubbed to death ten feet away, there wasn't _time_ for serenity, for that kind of emotionless focus. I had to act, so I did."

"At what cost?"

Xel gave him a strange look. "None, from where I can see. I took out the hunters, saved your life, and captured the ship. No one was the wiser to who we are or where we live."

"You used your rage."

"So? I knew what I was doing."

"But will you always?"

Xel sat back in his chair, closing his mouth in frustration. They'd been having this philosophical discussion for the last half hour and neither seemed to be getting a leg up over the other. "Okay, you have a fair point. I'm not saying I should rely _exclusively_ on my anger. I'm just saying I shouldn't be afraid to from time to time."

"And why not? If you tap into your anger a little, who's to say it won't grow?"

"So what if it did? It'd just mean I had access to more power."

"At the cost of—"

"Cost of what? My control? My rationality? Even if I lose control of _how_ I fight someone, I still know who it is I'm fighting. I still _choose_ who it is I'm fighting. On that ship, I chose to use my anger. _Chose_."

Alen sighed in exasperation. He was getting nowhere and he knew it. Surprisingly, Telia, who was sitting in another room within earshot, hadn't entered the conversation yet.

"Look, you were raised as a Jedi, so you were taught not to use anger as a trigger. That's fine, that's your choice. Notice, your _choice_. If I make a different one—" he shrugged, "—so what? Even the holocrons admit that the Dark Side only dominates your mind and heart if you _choose_ to let it in."

"And you think that opting to use anger and rage isn't letting it in?"

"Well…" Xel fell silent. "I don't know. Maybe. A little."

Alen's eyebrows shot up. "A little? The hell does that mean?"

"I…I don't know." He weaved his fingers through his hair. "I'm not cut out for this mystic debating _osik_."

"I wouldn't know about that," Alen said, crossing his arms. "You're doin' a pretty good job of being a pain."

Xel heard Telia's snicker from the next room. "Regardless, I'm not a Jedi. I am a Mandalorian with a warrior culture that counts serenity as pure _osik_ and a lie. A myth and affront to sentiency itself. To stop feeling is to stop living, and I don't know about you, but I like life very much."

Alen raised his hands in a placatory manner. "Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't feel, 'cause _everyone_ in this family knows that doesn't work. I'm just saying you shouldn't let those feelings control you."

Xel's brain stalled a bit. "What? Wait, then we just made a complete circle back to this control _osik_, which means I'm _still_ beating you."

"Until you lose it."

Xel's teeth clenched. "I won't."

Alen put two fingers to his temple as he furrowed his brows in concentration. "Something tells me…you already have."

Xel let out a derisive laugh. His mental shields were up, so there was no way Alen could have anything to go on. His face was a sardonic mask until he really thought about what his brother was saying.

"You did, didn't you?"

Xel looked down, thinking hard until his eyes widened in realization. The sounds of Telia's small movements in the other room stopped. Xel rose from his seat and made for the backdoor, going outside into the cold winter air and shielding himself in the Force as his breathing became labored. The soft crunch of boots on snow alerted him to an approaching presence.

"When?"

Xel gulped. "Two months ago. Nar Shaddaa."

Alen's eyes widened. "You mean—"

"Not an hour before Dad's death." Xel's expression turned to one of horror. "Alen…Mom said that whenever someone uses the Force, they give off a signature."

"Yeah?"

Xel clawed his fingers through his hair. "It was me," he said almost inaudibly.

"What?"

He turned to Alen slowly. "It was me. I—I lost it when we were up against a bounty and I was able to…do things." His fists clenched. "Things that…didn't seem possible. I destroyed him. Beat him within an inch of his life. A man over twice my age and experience, stronger, faster, and I destroyed him." His eyes closed as he exhaled hard, anger and frustration rising. "I should've realized it sooner."

"You used the Force. For the first time."

Xel locked gazes with him, a scowl on his face. "It wasn't Dad, Alen. It was me."

Alen's ice-blue eyes widened to their max. "No…it couldn't have—"

"Who _else_ could it have been? Dad wasn't using the Force to any degree I could tell, and from what you told me, he knew how to keep himself hidden even if he did to a minor degree." He looked away, blue eyes boring a hole in the snow. "It was me." They were both silent a long time.

"Fierfek," was all Alen said.

"I'm sorry," Xel choked out after another long minute, the snow beneath him melting away in dots as hot tears fell. A firm hand on his shoulder finally broke what little control he had.

His knees hit the snow as Alen stepped forward to crouch behind him, his arms encircling his brother's shoulders tightly as he outright bawled, too absorbed in his grief and self-loathing to notice the woman standing by the backdoor. Too focused on his pain to feel the touch over their Bond until comfort and love crashed into him like tidal waves.

_"You are not to blame, my son."_ Telia's warm, loving arms encircled him as she mentally transmitted what was for Xel alone. _"You are not responsible for the actions of anyone but yourself. You didn't know it would happen. How could you? Alen doesn't blame you. I don't blame you. Your father wouldn't blame you. So don't blame yourself."_

His free arm just clenched around her torso, holding her as close as possible as he emptied himself, absorbing everything she was giving him and feeling a small part of his soul restored even as he blocked her from his thoughts. He wasn't to blame, but he damn well knew who was.

_Vader._

…

1 week later

"Clear your mind."

"I thought we already established that doesn't work for me?"

"Maybe not in a one-on-one fight, but when you're trying to deflect bolts from multiple sources, power alone won't get you anywhere. You need connection."

Xel exhaled hard and raised Telia's saber again as five training remotes rose to greet him with a zap each. He ducked under the first two, blocking the other three as they fired in rapid succession and preparing himself for the second volley. Telia couldn't help but feel proud of her son. In just two months, he was already performing Force and lightsaber techniques that most younglings took years to master. Xel was still rough around the edges, but then, who so new to the ways of the Jedi wasn't?

Another zap managed to make its way through his defenses, and he cursed under his breath as he executed another combat roll, rising to swing his blade in a rough arc that deflected the next two incoming shots but left him vulnerable to another aimed at his thigh. He leapt over a table, swinging his blade into position 4 to deflect another shot and spinning about to see the remotes floating ever closer. His teeth clenched, anger rising as he tried to clear his mind. The remotes stopped in their tracks, floating lower as Telia walked toward him.

"Focus, Xel. Focus on timing, on anticipation, not confrontation. You're getting hit not because you don't know what's going to happen, but because you're just picking targets arbitrarily and not in the order they're coming. Focus on order. Order, Xel."

Caden took a deep breath, releasing it as he tapped into the Force and closed his eyes. The Force swirled through him, curling around his limbs and saber until he Focused it there. His eyes snapped open as a confident smile rose to his face, his weapon suddenly feeling like an extension of his body. Xel gave his mother a nod, and she waved her hand, activating the remotes again and sending them toward him full-tilt. His saber blurred as it twirled in an intricate pattern of slashes and deflects, and Telia could tell that he wasn't really controlling the blade at all. He had begun learning to let go, to release his control to the Force.

The remotes were suddenly less than nothing to him, but that power was getting to his head, and slowly but surely, his Focus began to slip. He was still able to hold them all back, though, having established a strong enough connection to keep going with just a little more effort. A flying box out of nowhere slammed into his back, knocking him off-balance and leaving him vulnerable to a hailstorm of remote zaps.

"What the hell?!"

"Sith don't play fair, remember?"

Xel glared at Alen, swinging his blade upward and catching a bolt before getting one to the side and another to the back. His Focus was completely gone, and the pain was making him reckless. The green blade swung in several arcs, catching bolt after bolt as Xel defaulted to the same Soresu drill he'd performed when first working with the remotes. Which is when Alen slammed him with the box again. He kept the Circle of Shelter up regardless, one of the remotes flanking and shooting him in the back. The box, a zap, another zap, another hit with the box. Sparks, fire, frustration, anger. Xel's teeth were grinding together as his rage began to build, the pain fueling the fire smoldering within until it was fanned into a blaze.

The box flew toward him again, and he spun toward it, outright taking the pain from his robotic attackers to slash a burning hole into it. Roaring, Xel batted one bolt out of the air after the next until he saw the damaged box coming toward him again. The emerald blade swung horizontally, cutting the wooden projectile in half before it deactivated.

Xel, panting with exertion and bubbling anger, tossed the inactive weapon aside, storming toward the back.

"Xel," Telia tried.

He just growled and kept walking.

…

"You know, you can't just run away every time you get frustrated."

Xel snarled at Alen. "_Usen'ye_."

His brother did the exact opposite.

The look of surprise on Xel's face when he recoiled from a sudden punch to the cheek was…well, priceless.

"Let's go."

Xel's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Well you're obviously looking for a fight, and Mom sure as hell won't give it to you, so let's go." His next series of jabs was deflected almost effortlessly by Xel, the younger boy's Mando training kicking in instantly.

"I'm not fighting you."

"Yes, you are."

Alen snap-kicked his brother in the gut, his speed driven with the Force. Xel snarled and straightened himself immediately, falling into a ready stance as Alen pressed forward with a flurry of blows. Jab, cross, hook, knee. Xel blocked or dodged it all, countering every few moves but never landing a hit. Alen leapt over him using the Force, sweeping his legs out with a trip-kick and leaping onto him, leveling punch after punch against him. Xel's arms were held up as a shield, his hips bucking and jostling his brother off. Xel rolled sideways into a crouch, kicking at his unbalanced brother's head and growling as Alen effortlessly deflected the strike and flipped away.

"You're fighting _both_ of us and you don't even know it."

"I'm _trying_ damn you!"

A jab from Alen was caught and countered with a hook on his jaw that, once again, never landed. Instead, Alen leaned into the strike, turning his momentum against him and throwing him over his shoulder onto his front, pinning him once again and holding him in an arm bar. Xel's anger and frustration were palpable.

"Think, Xel. You think we want you to _suppress_ your anger? It's impossible long-term, it never works. All that happens is a pressure build until it finally explodes, and that's the _last_ thing we want happening."

Xel kept struggling rather vainly.

"But," Alen grunted as he shoved his brother down again, "that doesn't mean we like what you're doing with it now."

"What are you talking about?" Xel hissed through clenched teeth.

"You said control is what keeps you from the Dark Side, that you_ choose_ to use your anger, but you're not. You're getting angry. There's a difference."

"How?"

"Use it."

Xel's teeth gritted harder.

"Use it, Xel."

The younger boy dug deep, even deeper than he did on the hunters' ship, finding that spark already crackling out of control. _Out of control._ A mental hand closed around the spark, keeping it contained. He could feel it hammering against the back of his mind, struggling to get out as the pain in his twisted arm started to intensify. _No, this is _my_ fight. _My_ life. My choice. _Xel's lips curled up in a snarl as a roar built in his throat, rising to a fever pitch mere seconds later.

"Get...off!"

A wave of Force energy slammed upward into Alen, punting him ten feet into the air and freeing Xel from his grip. The Mando got to his feet less than a second later, his anger present but not dominant. Under the rage and scowling, Alen could feel his brother clearly, could feel his will directing that inner fire wherever he wanted, and right then, Alen was about to get baked. The Jedi charged in headlong, his more acrobatic style giving him a slight agility advantage…or so he thought. The moment he performed a flying kick, Xel leapt up to meet him, catching his outstretched leg with one open hand and slamming his chest with the other.

Alen's back planted on the ground, and Xel lifted his entire body, throwing him against a nearby wall and charging in. The series of blows leveled against Alen sent shots of pain up his arms even as he blocked, Xel taking advantage of his sudden sluggishness to grab both appendages and throw him over his shoulder. Alen recovered with a roll, scrambling to his feet and driving Xel back with a push-kick. The younger boy spun around a jab and elbowed Alen in the side of the head, then pushed him back before calling on the Force, a wave of kinetic energy slamming into the Jedi and plastering him to the wall. As he heaved for breath, Xel held his brother in place for a few more seconds before releasing him and dropping his hands, collapsing to one knee as he caught his breath.

"Do you see now?"

Xel looked up at him and nodded slowly, allowing his anger to drain away now that he no longer needed it. "Yes." He sluggishly rose to his feet. "Thank you."

"For the match or the lesson?"

"Both."

Alen smiled as they locked hands, his brother pulling him into an unexpected hug. He laughed lightly as they pulled apart. "Any time."

* * *

><p>AN: If you would like to see full schematics of Alen and Telia's lightsabers, go to my page on Facebook. Link's on my profile.<p>

Musical Inspirations:

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones – Confrontation with Dooku: Alen vs. Xel I


	10. Failure

"Do you see now?"

Xel looked up at him and nodded slowly, allowing his anger to drain away now that he no longer needed it. "Yes." He sluggishly rose to his feet. "Thank you."

"For the match or the lesson?"

"Both."

Alen smiled as they locked hands, his brother pulling him into an unexpected hug. He laughed lightly as they pulled apart. "Any time."

...

1 month later

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 3 months BBY

Leaps and bounds. It was the only metaphor that could be used to describe Xel's rate of progress to any sufficient degree, and even then both Alen and Telia agreed that it fell terribly short. Perhaps lightspeed was a better comparison. Whatever the case, Xel certainly felt like he was in self-propelled hyperspace, if the grin plastered to his face as he batted bolt after bolt aside was any indication. It was nearly effortless now, at least at this difficulty, as it had been for weeks. Xel had always done something to sharpen his assets in his free time, even before all this Jedi training, be it his equipment or skills.

Where most _auretii_ boys were chasing after girls or screwing around with their friends, Caden was learning from two Jedi holocrons and dueling his brother. Where hologames were all the rage with young teenagers, Xel was deflecting bolts from practice remotes and levitating objects in the middle of casual conversation, just to prove he could. Though pride was ordinarily quite...destructive in training, Telia found Xel's to be far more inspirational, at least to him. She supposed that was because it wasn't pride in himself alone, but in his merits as a professional. Telia wistfully reminisced that Xander had been the same way during the Clone wars.

As she watched her son make short work of a level 3 remote drill, Telia couldn't help but feel a slight pang in her chest and pressed her hand against it with a grimace. It had been four months, four months knowing her love was gone and never coming home. Four months that she'd known they would never be a family again. The drawn-out sound of her own deactivating lightsaber reached her ears as she realized she'd been frowning at the floor. Xel made his way over to her a few moments later, having noticed her condition though he may not have known the cause.

"You all right, _buir_?" he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She smiled at him slightly and nodded. "Mhm. You should...get on with your exercises."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a sarcastic look. "I'm in better shape than _Alen_, so you'll excuse me if I'm comfortable enough to reduce my regimen a bit."

She rolled her eyes emphatically. Alen wouldn't take kindly to being called weak, or even being implied as such. As opposed to Xel, her older son's pride was far from productive, and sometimes got him into trouble, though not often enough to merit too much concern. For all his maturity in the Force and as a Jedi, Alen had not gotten quite as far as a human being. _Maybe because you kept him stuck on this mountain all his life._ Shoving that thought away for the moment, she refocused on Xel, who didn't buy her excuses and redirections.

"I'm fine, Xel. Just...thinking."

"Yeah, hard enough to bring down a ship. Even with your mental blocks up, I can feel how much your mind's running all over the place."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Well, in that case, I'll try to think less, keep from distracting you."

His lips tightened. "You're not distracting me. You're concerning me. Infinitely worse."

Her eyes softened as she smiled at him and drew him close in an embrace. "You know, for all your rough exterior, you're a big softie."

"Hey," he complained.

She smiled wider and added quietly, "Just like your father." That shut him up right quick. Slowly, they pulled apart and locked gazes. "Xel, you may not know it, but I see more and more of Xander in you every day." She ran her fingers through his recently-cut hair, the inch-long locks already starting to curl slightly. "His strength. His tenacity." She cupped his face in her hands. "His loyalty." A small tear streaked down her cheek as her voice cracked. "He would be _so_ proud of you."

Xel's face fell slightly before he smiled a little.

She knew it was forced and sighed internally. For all her and Alen's assurances, Xel still blamed himself for Xander's death, even more so since he figured out he'd been the beacon that drew Vader. There was something...different about his guilt though. It wasn't just self-blame, that was maybe, _maybe_ ten percent of what he felt. The rest...was something else she couldn't nail down, and wouldn't unless Xel opened his mind enough for her to see. And he hadn't, not for the past month and a half.

Despite her concern in this matter, Telia couldn't help but feel pride in her son's progress. Just a few months earlier, he couldn't have kept her out if he tried, not if she wanted to know something. Now, the only way she could glimpse his thoughts was by hammering on his shields, and she would never do something like that, not to her own son. As much as she wanted to satisfy her curiosity, Xel deserved his privacy, and if his familial concern for her was any indication, if he felt it necessary to tell her, he would. He trusted her enough for that, or at least seemed to.

Her dark brown eyes drifted to his dark blue ones, the orbs filled with a mixture of concern and forced mirth. The combination _really_ didn't suit him, and a sudden flash of anger swept through her. _Damn you, Vader. My son doesn't deserve this._ Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath and released her anger into the Force. Xel noticed.

"Still want to tell me it's nothing?"

Their gazes locked yet again until she sighed and sat in a nearby chair.

"It's about Dad, isn't it?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "How could you possibly have—?"

"It doesn't take a mind-reader," he explained, crouching in front of her and taking her hands. "I feel the same way." He hesitated a moment or two. "What the Empire took from us was unforgivable." His darkening eyes met hers. "And I have no intention of forgiving."

Her expression was carefully neutral, neither judgemental nor approving. Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa. _Long memory, short fuse._ She squeezed his hands. _You really are so much like your father._ "I know, Xel, but you can't let it make you bitter."

His eyes narrowed slightly, the slight shadows making them look even darker. "And if it has already?"

She shook her head slowly. "Then root it out. That's not how my son should be. Ever."

He looked away, his expression turning passive. A few moments passed before he released her hands and stood, scooping up her lightsaber from where he laid it and returning to the remotes.

_He's running._

_"Of course he is."_

Her head snapped to a doorway where Alen was standing, arms crossed, a grim expression on his face. _"How long have you been standing there?"_

His lips tightened. _"Long enough."_ He strode to stand next to her, eyes tracking Xel's progressively more fluid motions. _"He's getting better. Much better. I think he's going to pick a long-term style soon."_

She smiled slightly. _"Think you can predict which one?"_

He snorted. _"With him, anything's possible...except Soresu."_ He smiled slightly. _"He's _way_ too aggressive for that."_

_ "What about Makashi?"_

He shook his head. _"Makashi takes patience. Still too aggressive for it. Shii-Cho is too basic."_

_ "So that leaves four, five, six, and seven."_

Alen scratched his chin as Xel leapt across the room, deflecting a bolt to his side before rolling under another from his front. _"See that move?"_

Telia nodded. _"Shien Deflection. You think he'll take form five?"_

_ "Possible. He _is_ Mandalorian, so 'walking tank' is kind of in the job description."_ Alen's ice-blue eyes widened as Xel employed a Circle of Shelter before leaping over a remote in front of him and spinning to face it midair. Alen let out a sharp breath and flung a hand up to motion to his brother's actions. _"And then he pulls stuff like _that._"_

Telia tightened her lips and nodded. _"Swift Flank. Juyo."_

Alen watched for a few more minutes before throwing his hands up. "I give up," he said aloud, slumping into a nearby seat.

Telia cocked her head, intrigued. "Since he keeps switching between styles, maybe he'll go for six."

Alen looked at her sideways. "Niman? I don't know. Balance doesn't really seem to be his thing. Not with saber combat, at least."

She shook her head slowly. "In whose opinion? Certainly not mine. His approach _is_ aggressive, I'll give you that, but he acknowledges its shortcomings and tries to compensate with defensive techniques."

Alen cocked his head. "Maybe. I wonder, is it conscious or subconscious? His compensation, I mean."

She watched Xel for a few seconds, only half her mind actually present. "Well, the first time he faced the remotes, he employed a Soresu technique without even knowing it, so...no, I don't think so. I think he just acts on instinct."

Alen quirked a smile. "'Feel, don't think,' huh?"

She nodded slowly. "Precisely."

"Hooyah, _gar mir'shebs_!"

Telia's eyebrows shot up at Xel's whoop as he deflected a series of impressively difficult shots, flipping backward to dodge a second volley and landing with a flourish that intercepted two more bolts.

"Uh," Alen started, "what does that mean?"

Telia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't wanna know."

…

"So you guys want to keep whispering to each other or let me in on the secret?"

Telia looked up at him as her lightsaber deactivated. "It's no secret. We're just debating which lightsaber style you're going to choose."

Xel nodded as he walked toward the pair, offering Telia her weapon and cocking his head to the side. "I don't know. I was thinking Juyo for a while, because it's so unpredictable, but...I don't know. Seems really..." he shrugged noncommittally, "eh, just not my style."

"So?"

He thought for a few moments. "I don't know. I want something that complements my armor but allows me to function outside it, you know?"

"Soresu could do that."

"Yeah, but it stresses too much defense. I need some offense." He was silent a while longer. "Ataru leaves me too open, and I'm not _nearly_ acrobatic enough for it, _especially_ in armor. No offense, _buir_, but Niman? Way too impure."

Telia raised an eyebrow, but Alen beat her to the punch. "So that leaves form five. Have you decided which tier to focus on? Djem So, maybe?"

Xel chewed his cheek for a moment. "Nah. Too flashy."

"The 'flash' is there for a reason."

"I know, I know, just…I don't have the aptitude to make it practical. Not yet. So Shien it is."

Alen leaned over to whisper in Telia's ear. She nodded after a second.

"What?"

The two Jedi shared a furtive grin.

Xel crossed his arms and stared.

"It'd be perfect," she said to Alen.

"_What _would be perfect?"

"I'll go get it," Alen said with a grin.

Xel gave Telia a dubious look, and she smirked in response.

"Got it!"

Dark blue and brown eyes swept over to Alen, who was holding a small brown box. He handed the container to his younger brother, who gave Telia a sideways look before opening it, his eyes widening as he perceived its contents.

"What—is this?"

"It's called a Ruusan crystal, extremely rare and quite powerful. According to the holocron, it helps its user focus the Force."

Xel picked up the crystalline solid and turned it over in his hand, feeling it warm ever so slightly at his touch. "And why did this come up when we were discussing lightsaber styles?"

"Because the more you can focus," Telia explained, "the better you can wield one. Of course, the crystal won't be nearly as powerful as it could be until it's actually installed into a lightsaber."

An excited twinkle leapt into Xel's eyes. "You mean…I'm going to build my own."

She smiled and nodded slowly. "Soon. We'll have to gather the materials, which, with Imperials looking out for any such acquisitions, will take a while. In the meantime, you should have Alen help you access lightsaber schematics on the holocron."

Xel nodded excitedly and glanced pointedly at his brother. "What are we waiting for?"

Alen looked to Telia for approval, to which she only smiled and shook her head at her son's antics. "All right then. Let's roll."

…

"This…actually doesn't look all that complicated. Basic power source, solid chassis, focusing lens. These are all basic components of standard laser cutters, just on a higher scale."

"The real trick is the focusing crystal," Alen explained. "Without it, the laser would just keep going, like a cutter."

"So, the crystal causes a polar shift to keep the light within a certain range from the hilt, making it more concentrated and powerful."

Alen smiled and nodded. "Exactly. How did you know about the polarity?"

Xel pursed his lips. "When I was learning about Force powers from the holocron, he mentioned something called Force Lightning and how to defend against it with a lightsaber."

Alen gave him a strange look.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just…it took the holocron guardian years to reveal that to me."

"Well, he didn't tell me any details, just the name and basics of defense. Not too hard to figure out what it is when you hear the name."

Alen raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Fair enough. So, you think you can do this?"

Xel shrugged. "Sure. Be a little tedious, but I think the advantages more than make up for it."

Alen turned his own lightsaber over in his hands and smiled. "Got that right." They were both silent a while as Alen thought hard, looking at his brother, then toward the room where their mother was and back again. "Hey, I'll ask Mom, but…I think we can find at least a few of these parts at the local spaceport."

"Well, the energy cell's easy. In fact…" Xel's eyes narrowed and expression softened a little before he leapt to his feet and strode out the back door, Alen close behind him.

"Where you goin'?"

Xel didn't answer, but instead strode up the entrance ramp of the _Kandosii'tal_, through one doorway after the next until he reached the med bay, shuddering a little as memories of his last few visits arose, then shoving them all away. He'd hardly been on the ship in the last few months, and only ever to tend his armor, get some solitude, or update Uncle Teras on his progress. The Zabrak was quite enthusiastic about the possibility of coming to visit, and after much debate and concern, Telia had agreed. After all, Teras was a hunter too, and even if Imperials were tracking the movements of all Cadens in the hope of catching Xel, he knew how to lose them.

Xel stepped past the empty berth to find what he was looking for: his father's discarded blasters. Everything had been left untouched, whether because it was too painful for him to do otherwise or it simply slipped his mind. Xel had a feeling in the back of his head that he was using the latter as a cover for the former. Pushing that thought aside, he reached over to Xander's DD6 and took it to the armory, disassembling it on a nearby workbench. Alen was looking over his shoulder, silently admiring his nimble fingers as they worked the small parts of the weapon until the energy cell was exposed. Reaching in with a pair of pliers, Xel tugged at the small part until it came loose, splicing the wires so the cell would go inactive and wrapping them around the cell.

He raised the device to Alen's view, its metal body still gripped in the pliers. "One high-energy Diatium cell acquired."

Alen's jaw dropped. "I thought cells with that level of output were only installed in blaster rifles."

Xel grinned. "Nope. This gun was my—our _buir's_ pride and joy. Well, that and his knife."

"Which you now have."

The younger boy's smile faded a little. "Yes. Mandalorian iron—_beskar_. Extremely effective."

"As effective as a lightsaber?"

"Maybe not, but it can be used against one with no ill effect."

"Yeah…" Alen scratched the back of his head. "I remember the saber instructor mentioning something about that."

"Which means my armor'll come in _real_ handy if I'm up against a saber-wielder."

…

Alen narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't like Xel's tone when he'd said that. "I'll bet," he said evenly, stepping back into the hallway and pretending to observe the ship's interior. He would have to tell Telia about this.

"All done," Xel said, tucking the cell into a small oil cloth and tying it closed, the bundle going into a drawer in the armory.

They walked down the ramp together, and Alen suddenly felt the need to change the subject. "So, our uncle. When's he coming?"

Xel pursed his lips and shook his head. "Don't know. He didn't give me a date. So do we still want to go into town?"

"Maybe," Alen said pensively. "I'll go ask Mom."

Xel nodded and headed off to the 'fresher.

"Ma."

Telia turned toward him and smiled slightly, the mirth fading at his expression. "Alen, what's wrong?"

"I—" He hesitated a while. "I don't know. I think something's wrong with Xel. No, not wrong, just…" He sighed. "I don't know."

She took his hands in hers. "What happened?"

"Nothing, he just said something on the ship, that his armor would come in handy against a saber-wielder."

Telia gave him a sideways look. "And?"

"It wasn't what he said, it was the way he said it, like…I don't know, like he was some kind of predator."

"I…don't understand."

Alen sighed and shook his head. "It's probably nothing, it's just…I could feel…malevolence laced in his tone. Hatred, even."

Her eyes widened. "Of us?"

"Woah, no. No-no-no…I don't know what exactly, but it's not us."

Telia's expression changed subtly as she put the pieces together, releasing his hands and pacing away.

"What? What is it?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "How could I not have seen this?"

"Seen what?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Vader."

Alen looked at her confusedly for a few seconds before his eyes widened to their max in realization. "He…he can't be serious."

"He's a Mando," she stated simply. "They're _always_ serious about stuff like this."

"But…but that's crazy."

She opened her mouth to speak, but rapid steps from the stairs alerted her to Xel's approach.

"So can we?" Alen asked, mentally asking her if they could go to the spaceport to prevent suspicion.

She pursed her lips hard, gaze flickering to Xel briefly before nodding.

"Yes," Xel whooped with an arm-pump, running out back to the ship and returning in armor a few minutes later. "You ready, _vod_?"

Alen exchanged a look with Telia before nodding slowly and reaching for a jacket. "Ready."

…

Aurora Spaceport, Obroa-skai

"So, it's not just one lens, but a series of 'em."

"Exactly."

Xel nodded slowly, helmet tucked under his arm as they browsed one of the many tech hubs on Obroa-skai, both imported and exported goods displayed. Xel reached down and picked up a particularly expensive lens, the curved transparisteel looking much like a light-splitting prism in the fading sunlight.

"Ah, ya got 'n eye f' quality," the booth owner, an inquisitive-looking Devaronian, drawled.

Xel eyed him with a raised eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

"See that there, that's 'n Uoti CL-7. First and only of its kind."

"What does it do exactly?"

"Well," he said, taking the lens and holding it up to the sunlight, "see that?"

The white light from Obroa-skai's sun was bent and refracted into a rainbow of colors. "Yeah?"

"Well, when ya put this li'l baby inta a lasa cutta, it automatically filtas out any impurities in tha light—"

"Finding the most powerful frequency available."

"Exactly." The Devaronian grinned in delight.

"So how much?"

"Well, considerin' 'ow I go' it, I'd say…13K."

Alen sputtered out water from the flask he'd been drinking from. "Thirteen? Could practically buy a _ship_ with that."

"I agree," Xel said much more evenly and a little threateningly, the Mando mercenary shining through. "Not that I don't have the capital, but…that's quite a hefty price."

"Trust me, friend, if you knew what I had to go through to get this little baby…"

Xel's dangerously narrowed eyes stopped him midsentence.

"But, uh, of course, since you probably have such a busy schedule, you prob'ly don't wanna hear the…story." His expression continued to fall and morph into a frightened mask as Xel practically broadcasted his displeasure. The Devaronian gulped hard. "So we'll say eight and call it a day?" For a few moments, the Mando seemed ready to explode, but then his features softened and a small smirk crossed his face as he reached into a pouch at his belt.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He dropped the appropriate creds into the alien's open palm, then retrieved the lens and tucked it into an armored compartment on the right of his belt. They both strode away, Xel suppressing a grin, before rounding a corner and bursting into laughter. "Did you see his face?" Xel asked between breaths.

"Yes," Alen replied in the same tone. "That was mean, man. Even for you."

Xel shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Well _someone's_ gotta be the bad cop in our relationship, and it sure as _haran_ isn't gonna be you...like, ever."

Alen shook his head slowly, still grinning. "Come on, let's go before you decide to intimidate that Gran."

Xel glanced over at the alien in question, the large figure's triple eyestalks flashing back and forth. His smile faded slowly as he felt a ripple in the Force, opening himself to feel it more. It was coming directly from the Gran and a few others nearby, and although he still didn't have a full grasp of the gamut of emotions expressed by sentients, this one needed no study. Xel exchanged a look with his similarly disturbed brother, and an image of a coiled predator flashed into both their minds simultaneously.

_"Crime imminent," _Alen thought to him.

_"Agreed. Let's get out of here."_

As Xel started for the exit, Alen grabbed his arm. _"What do you mean, 'out'? We're just gonna let them do it?"_

_ "You _do_ know we have to keep a low profile, right?"_

_ "Doesn't mean we sit idly by and let scum do their work."_

Alen turned back toward the Gran and took a few steps toward him, reaching for the left side of his belt before Xel grabbed his arm in turn. _"You pull that saber and you might as well throw up a flare to the Empire."_

Alen rolled his eyes heavily. _"You think I'm that stupid?"_ He lifted the flap of his jacket that covered the left side of his belt, revealing a blaster holstered at his hip and an ever-so-slight lump under the folds of his tunic.

Xel's eyebrows raised slightly. _"Okay then."_

Alen slowly drew the weapon as the predatory feeling from the Gran and his partners intensified, Xel donning his helmet at the same time. The alien approached the Devaronian's stall slowly, a little too slowly, his right hand reaching under his coat to grab something. The moment he drew the blaster, three weapons rang out at once, none of them belonging to the brothers.

"What the hell?!" Xel yelled, diving for cover behind one of the stalls as the four thieves started shooting up the bazaar.

"I don't know! They don't seem to be targeting anything in particular!" A blaster bolt landed barely two inches from Alen's face, and his eyes widened as Xel's teeth clenched behind his faceplate.

"You sure about that?"

Alen popped from cover in response, sending a trio of shots from his pistol into the nearest thief, a human male who dropped barely a second later as red plasma burned through him. Xel, not to be outdone, followed suit, drawing both MA pistols and pumping shots left and right, more in suppressing fire than actual attacks. It worked. The thieves were immediately forced on the defensive and broke off their attack on the merchants to get to cover. The Gran's backup focused their fire on Xel as soon as they saw the Mandalorian t-visor, which suited the Mando just fine. His jetpack triggered a second later, taking him in an arc over the entirety of the market as he spun his body in a circle, firing downward and tagging one of them.

He was stunned by his own performance. Before his training, Xel would never have even considered flying upside-down to throw the enemy off-balance. It was too disorienting, like zero-g. Now, not only was he doing it, but managed to down a target with ease. The Force really was amazing. As his boots planted on the ground, Xel rolled to the side, dodging a trio of shots sent his way by the Gran. The other remaining thief was nursing a leg wound, probably from Alen, and joining his comrade's firing line. Xel debated sending a wrist rocket into the mix but immediately decided against it. It would be no more than gratuitous destruction, and there was no way he was going to incur that much collateral damage on the shop owners. Instead, he reached out to Alen and told him to flank the bunch. The injured thief found himself on the wrong end of a stun blast when the Jedi got within range.

Realizing this, the Gran sprinted for the exit, barely dodging a shot from Xel and rounding cover as the Mando pursued. The alien thought quickly and ran toward a frightened family, snatching up one of their smaller children before any of them could act. The parents and remaining children shrieked in tandem as their relative was hauled off as a human shield between his captor and the chasing Mando. Xel's eyes widened behind his visor.

_He did not just…_

The Mando's teeth clenched as he scowled hard, raising his blasters and aiming carefully.

"Back off!" the Gran warned in his guttural language, his blaster pressed to the boy's neck. "Back off or he gets it!"

Xel scowled even harder, if that was possible, but lowered his weapons slowly.

"Fool." The alien raised his blaster and fired once, nailing Xel dead center.

He let the force of the blast knock him off his feet, playing dead when he had barely felt the impact. The Gran's coarse laughter reached his ears as he stepped closer, still holding the boy tightly as he raised the blaster to Xel's helmeted head. _Idiot,_ Xel thought, _that _still_ won't hurt me._ Faster than lightning, the Mando's armored legs wrapped around his blaster hand, angling the barrel away and sending his shot into the duracrete floor. Xel's right hand raised and index squeezed before he realized he'd dropped his blasters in his act. Cursing, his hand reached down to his hip and whipped out his knife underhandedly, the _beskar_ blade stabbing into the Gran's leg.

Yelping in pain, the alien struggled harder and kicked Xel in the head, the impact jarring him enough to release his blaster hand. Xel delivered a sharp kick to the weapon itself, sending it clattering to the floor and him running again as he regained his footing. The alien ran toward a nearby door to a secluded maintenance tunnel, throwing the child aside as he limped through. The boy's head impacted against the hard duracrete wall, and Xel's heart stopped for a second as he reached out with the Force.

"Xel!"

Caden glanced behind to see Alen running toward him, then looked at the open door and felt an unstoppable surge of hatred pass through him. _A kid…he's just a kid._ His teeth ground together hard as he ran after the escaping thief. "Take care of him!" he ordered his older brother, pointing at the immobile child as his family rushed to his side. Xel didn't bother looking at them anymore, a red haze beginning to cloud his vision. _A _kid_!_ An animalistic roar came from his helmet's filters as he chased down the Gran, leaping to tackle the burly alien and pelt his shoulder and torso with blows. The alien shoved him off almost effortlessly and clambered to his feet, a fast hook knocking Xel back two steps despite his successful guard.

_What the hell? This _hut'uun's _kriffing strong._ With that in mind, Xel feinted with a right cross, instead opting for a low kick to the alien's injured leg, his knife coming loose even as the Gran roared in pain. As Xel crouched to retrieve the weapon, his opponent kicked him in the head—hard. The boy's head spun as he tried to reorient himself, instead finding his enemy driving him back further and further. His anger kept rising with every passing moment, every fiber of his body telling him to fight back while also screaming its pain. A hastily aimed shin kick landed in the alien's lower ribs, temporarily jarring him out of his rampage and allowing Xel some breathing room. Using the Force to dull the pain, he leapt toward the Gran with a flying cross, the blow landing solidly on his left cheek and staggering him.

But his opponent was not to be so easily defeated. The blows they rained down on each other nearly shook the deserted room they were in until Xel was thrown against a nearby pipe, the metal denting heavily with the impact.

"Ow," he groaned quietly as he tried to stand, his limbs shaking with a mixture of pain and adrenaline. Before he could respond, the Gran hauled him to his feet and yanked his helmet off one-handed, that same hand curling into a fist and driving straight into his head. The world spun as he fell, the alien allowing him to stagger to his knees as red filled his vision completely. _Get up_, he told himself. _Get up!_ His body refused to obey. The Gran bodily lifted and threw him across the room, his body rolling to a stop a second later. The massive alien advanced slowly, savoring his victory as blood streamed from Xel's face, the Mando struggling to a kneeling position.

Caden's eyes shut and teeth clenched in a mixture of pain and frustration. _I've taken on _Nikto _before. Why am I failing? _The image of the young boy's limp body filled his mind's eye, and his heart wrenched painfully. _Why have I failed…again?_ Distantly, the click of the Gran's boots against the metal floor reached his ears, the steps getting closer by the second. _I failed him._ Xander's face replaced the boy's. _I failed him…_

And in an instant, that defeat, that despair, was replaced by an inferno, a raging tempest of heat fighting to be released. And he did.

"Enough!" he roared, his right hand raising toward the alien, fingers curling in a clawing motion as the Gran sputtered to a stop, both hands going to his neck.

His three eyes kept opening and closing haphazardly, the eyestalks turning every which direction as his fingers desperately tried to loosen the invisible grip around his neck. Which was when he felt his feet left the ground. All three eyes widened in horror as he saw a foot-long gap between him and the floor, those invisible fingers tightening even further as Xel's fingers drew closer together. His outstretched hand, his entire _body_ was shaking in white-hot rage.

"A child," he said in quiet menace. "You assaulted a _child_. You are a _worm_, not even worthy to fall at his feet and beg forgiveness!"

If possible, the grip around the thief's throat tightened even further, and black spots swam at the edge of his vision.

"Xel, stop!"

A small part of Caden recognized the voice, but he never took his focus away from the miserable _chakaar_ floating in his grasp.

"He's all right, Xel! The kid's okay! Let him go!"

The pieces started to click in his head. _Kid's alive…family's intact…attempted murder, not successful. _His eyes widened slightly as the red cleared and he realized where he was and who was talking to him. Immediately, his hand relaxed and dropped, the Gran falling flat on the ground as a result. Alen's brown-clad figure rushed past him, his right hand going over the fallen thief's head as he searched for life in the Force. A relieved sigh left him before he stood and slowly turned to Xel, his eyes glaring daggers at his brother.

Xel, for his part, was staring at his hands much the same way he had on Nar Shaddaa. _Again. I did it again._ He looked up and met his brother's harsh gaze. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Yes," Alen interrupted sharply with a scowl, "yes you did." A few tense seconds passed before the Jedi kneeled again and put his hand on the Gran's head. Fifteen seconds later, and he got up again, looking a little more tired than before. "Let's go."

Xel nodded numbly, recalling his helmet with the Force and tucking it under his arm as he followed. "What did you do to him?"

Alen looked at him, still glaring. "Force Persuasion. Made him forget you used the Force."

Xel gulped hard. "Thanks."

"I didn't do it for you. If anyone finds out there are Force-sensitives on this planet, we're all in jeopardy." He scoffed. "I expected you to know that, but I guess you lost too much control to care."

He couldn't meet his brother's eyes all the way back to their speeder, or on the ride back home. Alen was right, and he knew it. He had well and truly failed, just like before.

And he could only hope his actions hadn't been noticed by anyone else.

* * *

><p>AN: Most tracks mentioned, if not all, can be found on grooveshark dot com<p>

Musical Inspirations

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones - Zam the Assassin: 9:47-10:14—"Enough!" to Xel's release; 10:14-end—Xel's release to end of chapter


	11. Dha Wherda Verda

"If anyone finds out there are Force-sensitives on this planet, we're all in jeopardy." He scoffed. "I expected you to know that, but I guess you lost too much control to care."

He couldn't meet his brother's eyes all the way back to their speeder, or on the ride back home. Alen was right, and he knew it. He had well and truly failed, just like before.

And he could only hope his actions hadn't been noticed by anyone else.

…

1 hour later

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 3 months BBY

"_What_ were you thinking?!"

Like his brother, Xel couldn't meet Telia's intense gaze as he responded in a near-whisper. "I wasn't."

"Exactly. You weren't." Telia was pacing, her breath heavy with barely controlled anger. It was a side Xel had never seen before and Alen only rarely. Both could understand her state of mind.

"I'm sorry," Xel added in the same soft tone.

"You're _sorry_? You cut loose, release your anger, nearly _kill_ someone, and you're _sorry_?!" She laughed mockingly. "Let me explain something to you. Even _without_ our Bond, I felt your anger from halfway across the planet, so who's to say the Empire's Jedi Hunters couldn't feel you from halfway across the _galaxy_?!"

Xel kept his gaze directed downward as his mother glowered at him.

"Mom," Alen said quietly, surprisingly calm for his previous state of mind.

With effort, Telia took a deep breath and exhaled the majority of her anger, some still simmering under the surface. "Xel, you _cannot_ afford to slip up like that again. Ever."

He gulped hard and nodded, eyes pricking and throat closing. When Telia reached out through their bond to see what was causing his reaction, her fury completely melted away.

"Oh, Xel," she breathed, her arms curling around his shoulders and holding him close. When she closed her eyes, the darkness was invaded by a clear picture of Xander's face, and Xel's monumental feelings of guilt and shame washed over the Bond. His face pressed against her shoulder, silent tears running into her tunic. He made no sounds, no movements. It was as if he were a crying statue. Telia nearly winced when she felt his feelings vanish and his side of the Bond slam shut.

Slowly, he extracted himself from her embrace and stood up, retreating to his room with a stone-cold expression and leaving both mother and brother gaping.

…

Inside, he was a complete and utter shipwreck. It was just like that day on Nar Shaddaa, except he _knew_ he could use the Force and _chose_ to, to such an extent that he practically threw up a flare to anyone looking. An iron fist tightened around his heart. _I'm so weak, so foolish. So childish._ He sat on his bed hard, head falling into his hands. _That weakness is going to get them both killed, or worse._ He looked up at his door. _I can't put them through that. Can't lose anyone else._ He rose slowly, as quietly as possible, and headed for his door, using the Force to lend silence to his steps and making his way down the hall toward the back, where his ship was waiting.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Xel stopped in his tracks, features setting as he turned to his brother. "I'm leaving."

Alen's eyes narrowed.

"I'm putting you both in danger being here. I can't control myself, not when I get like…that."

"And you think running away will change that?"

Xel turned to face Telia, who effectively cut off his path to the door. "No, but at least you'll be safe." His gloved fists clenched. "I can't lose anyone else."

"And you think _we_ can?"

His blue eyes met her brown ones, flickering to Alen's for a moment before returning to the floor. _So selfish._ A small, bitter chuckle came from his throat as his fists relaxed. He blinked back the returning sting in his eyes, muscling his way through and keeping his composure. "There's been enough breakdown today." His eyes returned to Telia's. "I'm sorry," he added evenly.

Before she could respond, there was a loud knock at the door, and all three of them jumped a little. Telia unclipped her lightsaber and strode cautiously over, checking the peephole and widening her eyes in surprise before opening the door.

"So," the man on the other side said as the boys approached, "is this a bad time?"

Xel practically sprinted within view of the entrance and grinned as he saw who it was. "Not at all, Uncle Teras."

…

As it turned out, Teras wasn't the only one who came. He'd somehow convinced Elek to take a break from his foundry duties and bring Cerril as well. One of the first things Xel noticed was the new scar on Ril's left cheek and the slight smirk he always seemed to have whenever someone looked at it.

"I trust your trip was uneventful?" Telia asked.

Teras smirked and exchanged a look with Elek before shrugging. "Of course."

Telia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Teras, you've never been particularly good at lying to me."

The Zabrak grinned. "Only when I want you to ask about it. Before we left, we were…accosted by some Imps who wanted to hire us as trainers for the Imperial Academy on Mandalore. Told 'em to _usen'ye_."

Her eyebrows shot up as Xel and Ril giggled in the background. "Bet _that_ went over well."

"Well, _they_ came to _us_ to give that 'offer,' so trying to force the matter would have ended…badly."

"For them," Elek added.

As they chattered on, Xel turned to Ril and whispered, "So what's with the scar? You get in another drunken fight?"

Cerril's smirk turned into a full-on grin. "Nope. Well, not drunken, anyway." His gaze locked with Xel's.

Barely a flicker from his Force Sense was enough to give him a clue. "Ril, no." His friend nodded emphatically. "Her?" He nodded again. "You _do _know that girl's trouble, right?"

"Yep, but she's _my_ kind of trouble."

Xel sighed and shook his head. "What happened exactly?"

"Ooh, stories?"

Xel's brows furrowed as he looked back to see his brother leaning his head between them. "Never took you for the gossiping type."

Alen grinned as he summoned a chair with the Force, visibly unnerving Cerril. "Never really had the chance to. Please, don't stop on my account." He rested his chin on his palm, looking at them both intently.

Sighing heavily, Cerril returned his attention to Xel. "Well, you see, ever since that night, I've kinda been the laughing stock of Clan Vizsla, so…I decided to go for a rematch."

"And let me guess, she beat you even while sober."

Ril grinned wider, if that was even possible. "Nope. It was actually a draw. I had reach, she had flexibility." He laughed heartily. "You shoulda seen the looks on some of the Vizsla kids' faces. They were actually _betting_ on our match."

"_Di'kute,_" said Xel with a shake of the head. "For or against you?"

Cerril snorted. "What do you think?"

"So that draw must have been quite a slap."

"Yep. And they weren't the only ones upset about it."

"So you went back for round three."

"Mhm, just not in front of the others. _That's_ how I got this scar." He punctuated this statement by drawing his index across the indent on his cheek, cocking his head to one side. "Well…not exactly _during_ the match, more like…immediately after."

Xel's eyebrows knitted until both he and Alen reached out with the Force, whereupon both their expressions changed, Alen's in confusion, Xel's in fierce embarrassment.

Ril laughed at them both, his cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling. The seventeen-year-old was clearly on Cloud Nine.

Xel shook his head, the red still failing to leave his face after a good twenty seconds. "So you two are—"

"Very much together." Cerril leaned back, using his knitted fingers as a headrest. "And _very_ happy."

"Clearly," Xel muttered as Alen turned to him in confusion. They locked gazes. "You don't wanna know."

Ril looked at Alen in disbelief. "You mean older brother doesn't know about—"

"I'm sure he knows, he just doesn't know what it feels like."

Ordo's eyebrows shot up. "And you do?"

Xel blushed again, scratching the back of his head. "Well, no, I mean…I've never—"

"Then how—"

"I know your expressions, and with that feeling, it's not too hard to put together."

"Okay," Alen interrupted, "would you two stop being so inside-jokey and tell me what's going on?"

"No!"

"Yes!"

The disoriented Jedi looked between the two young Mandos, eyebrows raising as they gave each other very different looks, Ril's a kind of mad glee, Xel's a flustered grimace. "Okay," Alen said finally, raising his hands placatingly, "fine, I don't want to know."

Cerril looked genuinely put out. "You sure? I mean, you're a _jetii_, but I'm sure we could find you a—"

"No," Xel interrupted sharply. "Absolutely not."

"But come on."

"No, Ril. He's still innocent of your…debauchery, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Alen's eyebrows shot up. "Debauchery?"

"B-But—" Cerril protested.

"No, Ril. I mean it."

Ril sighed heavily and slumped in his chair. "Fine. Fine, be a spoilsport."

Xel shook his head as his eyes rolled. Desperately trying to change the subject, he turned to Elek and Teras and made a decision. "Hey, Uncle Teras!"

The Zabrak looked his way. "Hm?"

"Should we show them?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Show them what?"

Xel grinned.

"Oh. That." Teras glanced at Telia. "Well, she's already seen it."

"Alen hasn't," Xel pouted.

Teras sighed as he got to his feet alongside Elek. "But these old bones—"

"Are gonna hold up just fine." Xel smiled wider at his brother's confused expression and winked as he and the other three Mandos lined up in the open central room.

"Ready?"

"Ready," all three answered in unison as their postures and stances straightened, each of them mimicking the other.

Xel's grin faded to a small smirk. _Hold onto your hat, Alen, 'cause you're about to see one of _my_ skills._

And all at once, they began.

"_Taung—sa—rang—broka—Man—do—'ade—ka'rta_!"

Fists beat against chests, both of the men and the men next to them, alternating in a rhythmic beat of drums, armored fists on chest plates, that matched the cadence of their chant perfectly.

"_Dha Wherda Verda a'den tratu, Manda'yaim kandosii adu_! _Duum motir ka'tra nau tracinya_!_ Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a_!"

The fists kept beating, firm blows that were so perfectly and precisely executed, Alen began asking himself whether they were Force-users. As if sensing his train of thought, Xel just gave him a feral grin, slowing his beats to a low drone with the others.

"_Kom'rk—tsad—droten—troch—nyn—ures—adenn_!"

The beat picked up again with loud, resounding strokes, each of them once again in perfect cadence.

"_Dha Wherda Verda a'den tratu, Manda'yaim kandosii adu_! _Duum motir ka'tra nau tracinya_!_ Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a_!"

…

The beat kept going as they fell silent, rapid and unyielding, like a Mandalorian charge on the battlefield, and in the throes of the chant, Alen felt a slight chill run down his spine. The…dance, for lack of a better term, was truly intimidating. The discipline required, the coordination…he hadn't thought them achievable to such a high degree without the Force, and at that moment, he realized he'd read Xel all wrong. As the drumming again rose to a fever pitch, they all began chanting again, their voices even louder and more forceful.

"_Dha Wherda Verda a'den tratu, Manda'yaim kandosii adu_! _Duum motir ka'tra nau tracinya_!_ Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a_!_ Dha Wherda Verda a'den tratu, Manda'yaim kandosii adu_! _Duum motir ka'tra nau tracinya_!_ Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a_!"

The drumbeats went choppy to allow the chanters to employ more force, the resounding blows ringing through the whole house as they finished with a universal and powerful expulsion of breath.

…

_I don't think he realizes how far open his mouth is hanging._ Xel couldn't help but grin as he and the others broke their line, his armored arm going around his brother's shoulders as he kept staring, his gaze wandering to each of them until he shook himself.

"Wow. Just…wow." Alen shook his head again. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like that."

"Nor will you outside of visiting Mandalore," Elek responded, clapping his son on the shoulder.

Telia was smiling at her sons, arms crossed.

"And you said I was too sloppy and uncoordinated," Xel teased, jabbing Alen in the ribs with his index.

Alen scrunched up his face and shoved him away playfully. "Shut up." His grin belied his "fury."

Xel shrugged. "Just saying."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Well, you always make me feel inferior, I just figured I'd return the favor."

Alen arched an eyebrow at him. "Revenge is never the best course of action."

Xel's smile faded to an almost imperceptible degree, but Alen noticed. "Maybe, but in this case, I'm willing to settle for second best."

…

"So what brought you here now?" Xel asked. "I mean, you've wanted to come visit for a while, so…"

Teras mirthful expression darkened a bit, and he reached for a bag on the floor near the dining table, lifting and setting it on the surface, then opening its flap and reaching in. He hesitated for a moment before drawing out something curved and metal and offering it to Xel. It took the teen a few seconds, but eventually the truth dawned on him and his eyes widened in recognition.

"Is…is that—?" he choked out.

"Yes. It's…all I could recover. I'm sorry."

Xel took the metal in both hands, his gloved thumbs running across the surface as his eyes welled up. "How did you get a hold of this?"

"Apparently, a bunch of _beskar_ was suddenly floating around Nar Shaddaa's undercity markets after the fact, most of it being bought up almost immediately. That was the only bit I got back."

Xel gulped and nodded slowly, a small, sad smile coming to his face. "Thank you." He got up and pulled the larger Zabrak into a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you so much."

…

The six of them stood in a semicircle in the house's rear courtyard, the light of their small bonfire illuminating the metal surface of the item in Xel's hand. He knelt solemnly.

"What's going on?" Alen asked Teras almost inaudibly.

The Zabrak leaned toward him. "Since Mandos die on the battlefield, and very often in explosions, there usually isn't much of a body left to identify, so their memories are commemorated with armor pieces." He nodded toward Xel. "That pauldron is all I could find of Xander's."

"Oh," Alen said quietly, bowing his head in reverence.

Xel closed his eyes and opened his mouth, his voice ringing clearly through the still night air. "_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_." His eyes opened and he stayed crouched for a while, absently listening to Teras explain the ceremony to Alen.

"'I'm still alive, but you're dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.' It's a traditional Mandalorian remembrance of the fallen."

A small hand laid on Xel's shoulder as his falling tears sizzled in the fire. His free hand grasped Telia's, and he stood slowly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Thank you, Teras. All of you. I…I don't really think I came to terms with it until just now."

Teras laid a hand on his other shoulder. "It's the least we can do, _ad'ika_."

As they all went inside one by one, Xel stayed behind and opened his right hand, staring at his father's right pauldron and the red symbol of Mandalore emblazoned on it. His eyes narrowed and fingers closed around it as he reached to his own right shoulder and disengaged the grip-seal on his pauldron, pulling it off and fastening his father's to it. The curved plate was a little bigger than the one he had before, but to such a small degree that he hardly noticed the weight. The spare pauldron went into a pouch at his belt as he walked inside the house, his mother having noticed his absence. When she and the other Mandos saw the new shoulder piece, they all smiled solemnly and nodded to him.

Alen once again felt utterly left out.

…

As they all headed for bed, Xel felt heavily bittersweet. His father's funeral had given him some closure, true, but there was still the matter of his killer. Not only that, but Teras and the others were leaving in the morning, after being there barely a few hours. All three of them apparently had other business to take care of and couldn't stay. He couldn't blame them. As he leaned back in bed, his armor stacked in a corner of the room, his mind wandered in every which direction, sleep slowly taking control, or so it seemed. He slipped into a half-conscious state, his eyes fluttering closed as he started hearing eerily familiar voices in his head.

_"_Dha Wherda Verda_. The chant they performed. It means 'Rage of the Shadow Warriors.'"_

_ "I see. Why do you seem a little…disturbed by that?"_

_ "Do I?"_

_ "You definitely _feel_ that way."_

_ "Maybe…maybe it's because it reminds me of where he gets it from."_

_ "What, his rage?"_

_ "Yes…he was brought up learning to use it."_

_ "So do we just train him not to?"_

_ "We've been trying that, and not only does he refuse to, but he has consciously chosen his anger."_

_ "So what do we do? If he has another outburst like today—"_

_ "I know the stakes, Alen. I just don't know how to help him. Maybe we should stop his training. At least for a while, until he learns to control his anger properly."_

_ "What reason would we give?"_

_ "The truth. For all his irrational and emotional decisions, Xel listens to cold, hard reason."_

_ "I hope you're right…Mom, I don't ever want to have to fight him."_

_ "Well of course not, but…why do you say that?"_

_ "I just…seeing him today, outside of training, in his natural element…it unnerved me just how good he is. I can only imagine what his skills were like before, but with the Force…I'm not sure I could stop him if I tried."_

_ "Then let's hope we never have to."_

_ "Hope, Mother? That's something we haven't got a whole lot of these days. And if Vader—"_

_ "Vader won't touch him. Or you. I'll die before I let that happen."_

_ "Mom…if you do that…you know he'll hate you for it."_

_ "Yes...I know, and I need you to be strong, because if it does happen—"_

_ "Wait…do you feel that?"_

_ "No…wait, yes. It feels like…oh Force!"_

With that, Xel's eyes snapped open, and he realized with startling clarity that he'd been eavesdropping on his family. He'd subconsciously accessed their Force Bond in his sleep, a touch that didn't give away his presence because it was so light. He bit his lower lip as he felt them both outside his closed door, tension flowing off them in waves. He forced his body to relax and turned over, feigning sleep while furiously suppressing the urge to cry. _How could they think I would ever betray them…to Vader? _Tears fell silently, soaking his pillow as he drew the covers around him like a Force Shield.

The two Jedi outside his door left believing he remained unaware.

* * *

><p>AN: Another pair of short chapters, another two-day release. Look for more tomorrow.<p>

Musical Inspirations:

Star Wars: Republic Commando – Rage of the Shadow Warriors: chant of the _Dha Wherda Verda_ (because the song was tailored to Republic Commandos in the track, some of the words are changed to suit the Republic instead of Mandalore)


	12. Trust

With that, Xel's eyes snapped open, and he realized with startling clarity that he'd been eavesdropping on his family. He'd subconsciously accessed their Force Bond in his sleep, a touch that didn't give away his presence because it was so light. He bit his lower lip as he felt them both outside his closed door, tension flowing off them in waves. He forced his body to relax and turned over, feigning sleep while furiously suppressing the urge to cry. _How could they think I would ever betray them…to Vader? _Tears fell silently, soaking his pillow as he drew the covers around him like a Force Shield.

The two Jedi outside his door left believing he remained unaware.

…

Two days later

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 3 months BBY

A gloved hand ran over the barrel of a Mandalorian Assault Pistol, the grooves felt even through the microionized _beskar_ weave of the crushgaunt. A cleaning rag followed not long after, the item used to clean the weapon in a rote, mind-numbing process.

"Xel?"

A black eyebrow arched very slightly, but the eyes below never left the blaster.

"Xel, you in there?"

_You already know the answer,_ he thought absently.

The rapid approach of steps alerted him to the interruption of his solitude. "Are you intentionally avoiding us?"

Xel sighed softly, pulling the rag back to complete the shine of his blaster's finish, then inspecting the barrel for carbon scoring. "Maybe I just want to be alone."

"You've been alone for the past two days."

"So? I've been around you two for the last four _months_. I think I'm entitled to some alone time, _vod_."

His brother frowned and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe of the _Kandosii'tal's_ armory. "Did you have this much when you lived on Mandalore?"

Xel hesitated barely a moment before continuing his maintenance. "More. I'm tired of all the noise. Need a break." He rose from his chair, blowing dust off the pistol barrel and placing it back in the holster belt slung over a nearby hanging peg. He strode to the crew quarters, taking a plasma torch from his bed and heading back to the armory. A welding visor went over his features as he set a chunk of durasteel down on the workbench and started melting sections of it away.

Alen watched him silently for a long time. "So what are you doing?"

Xel's sigh was barely audible over the hiss of his plasma torch. "Making a shell."

"For what?"

He turned the torch off and lifted his visor, holding up the durasteel to the light and scrunching up his face at the marred surface. "_Haar'chak._ It's _supposed _to be for my lightsaber."

Alen's expression darkened slightly.

"Which I know you won't let me build anyway."

His brother's eyebrows shot up. "But we never—"

"What, told me I was barred? No, you didn't." He tossed the ruined metal into a trash bin and picked up another ingot. "I decided to save you the trouble." He huffed as the plasma torch activated again and his visor went down. "Doesn't mean I'm done learning. See, you can't stop me from doing that."

Alen was silent a long time. "Xel, we—"

"Just have my best interest at heart, I know." The torch shut off. Xel pulled his visor off and tossed his tools aside, setting the metal where it would stay untouched, then cleaning up and heading down the ramp. This wasn't a conversation to be had with Alen alone. Half a minute passed before he found Telia. His eyebrows rose.

The Jedi Knight was taking on eight remotes at once, deflecting bolt after bolt in a non-stop pattern of arcs and parries, her feet hardly moving and eyes shut.

"_Shab_," Xel breathed out, his eyes hardly able to track her lightning-fast flow of moves, her blade a whirlwind of emerald light. _That kind of skill…can I ever hope to match it?_ His eyes drifted to an inactive holocron, and he frowned. _Not if I don't get new resources._ He didn't notice the stop in the remotes' firing patterns until Telia's lightsaber deactivated.

…

"Xel."

His head snapped in her direction.

"I wanted to tell you a while ago, but…we're stopping your training for now."

He nodded. "I know. I understand why, to a degree."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "To a degree?"

"I understand how my…lack of control might put you both at risk of discovery, but…" He looked away, expression twisting in slight anger and pain. His dark eyes met hers in an intense stare. "Vader?"

She paled a little.

"You honestly think that I would _ever_ betray you to him? Or anyone, for that matter? You're _family_. _He_ killed my _buir_. He tried to kill _me_." His fists clenched and a heavy breath left his body as his tone turned pained and eyes drifted down. "Mom, do you really think so little of me?"

Two firm hands gripped his shoulders. "Never, Xel, but you have to understand something. You will never know just how tempting the Dark Side is until you face it, and though I desperately hope you never have to, the reality is that someday, you will. I love you, son, but I'm afraid for you if and when that happens. Your anger, your rage and hatred, all of it counts against you when facing servants of the Dark like Vader. They'll turn those feelings against you, twist you into something you're not, all with the promise of power."

He looked at her. "I don't _want_ power. I just…I just want to live."

"The Dark Side is rarely so obvious. It'll disguise itself as freedom, or protection, or the ability to save those you love. It corrupts ordinarily pure desires and forces you to surrender more and more of yourself until the person in the mirror is unrecognizable." Her hands tightened around his shoulders. "I can't bear the thought of losing you like that."

Gloved hands grasped hers as he looked into her eyes. "Then trust me, _buir_." His expression set in certainty. "Trust me when I say you won't."

There was something in his voice, in his expression and stance, that pushed a button in her head. The Force whispered in her mind, and the pieces in it so excited and disturbed by his rampant emotions suddenly settled. A staggered breath left her as her mouth opened and eyes widened in surprise. What she felt coming from him, rolling off in waves…it was like Xander had never left.

_Balance,_ a small voice whispered in her mind. Telia smiled as she recalled the memory, her house fading to the background of her consciousness as she practically felt the cold floor of the _Venator_-class Star Destroyer under her feet, smelled the metal of the parked _LAAT/i_ gunships and acrid scent of engine fuel. The warmth of Xander's hand against hers, his bare index drawing patterns on her arm as they watched a Rylothian sunset. The reassuring cool of his armor against her back. The small, whispering voice in her ear as he opened himself to her in the Force, allowing her to sense every dreg of his feelings, every scrap of hate, love, resolve, anger, longing.

As she opened her eyes, the dark blur in front of her materialized into her son, who was staring at her with those same piercing eyes, different in color but not in quality. He cocked his head slightly at her sudden lack of focus, or so she thought. A small smile came to her face as she gripped his shoulders a little tighter.

"I trust you, Xel." She pulled him into a hug, pressing against him tightly, as if her hold were all it took to keep him in her life. _I don't want to lose him to the Dark Side, but if I keep pushing him into my mold instead of his natural bent, I'll lose him to his resentment._ "And I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you think otherwise."

He pulled away gently. "Does this mean my training's back on?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Not yet. I'm still not comfortable with how badly you let loose the other day."

He avoided her gaze. "I'm not either, but stopping my training isn't going to help with that."

Telia pursed her lips. "Fair enough, but the holocrons can only tell you to keep your anger in check. They can't teach you how." She backed up a few steps, using the Force to activate several remotes at once. "I can."

…

Without warning or prelude, all four remotes fired at once, the sharp zaps resonating through Xel's _beskar'gam_ though the armor deflected the worst of it. In reality, all he felt was a slight punch whenever the bolts hit him, but as he'd decided months before, the true damage of these remotes was psychological. Despite his evasive maneuvers, Xel kept getting shot repeatedly, a small chunk of his professional pride dying with the zaps' contact. Gritting his teeth, his mind raced for options, reaching out to the Force and Gripping two of the remotes, sending them flying into two others before ducking a zap from the unaltered one.

Using Force Focus to effectively slow down time, Xel spotted Alen's lightsaber hanging on his belt and reached out to it, calling it to his hand within the space of a second and thumbing it on to deflect two bolts from returning remotes. As he settled into a familiar pattern of Focus and defense, Xel closed his eyes and used one hand to activate the saber's nonlethal function, just in case things got out of hand. A zap got through his defenses, and he grit his teeth as his anger rose.

"_Use it,"_ a voice whispered.

His eyes opened and locked on to Telia, who was standing with her arms crossed just twenty feet away. _Use it,_ he reminded himself, smiling malevolently and taking that internal spark in both hands. As he reached out to the Force, he felt a rush of power flood into his system, not as powerful as what he'd felt when he saved Alen or so uncontrollable as when he'd nearly killed the Gran, but just enough to keep the remotes at bay while allowing him room to breathe and think about his next move. With this rush of confidence came a startling realization. His anger wasn't really fire, it was fuel. What that fuel was used for was his decision, but he had to decide or risk letting it decide for him.

Focusing in the Force, he kept the remotes at bay with relative ease, struggling just a little more when Telia upped their difficulty setting. _Telia!_ _Of course!_ Since he had decided to focus on the Shien style of saber combat a few days earlier, Xel had done all he could to learn about the form, even going so far as to access the holocron behind his mother's back. As he'd told Alen, they couldn't stop him from learning. That said, Shien wasn't just meant to defend you against multiple opponents, it was meant for counterattack. With remotes, the point of the exercise was defense, so counterattack was virtually useless…or so he'd thought.

Deflecting two more shots and spinning his blade in a wide arc to intercept three others, Xel called on the Force and leapt over a couch, rolling on impact to fall into a sprint toward the source of their direction. Telia's eyebrows shot up as her son sprinted straight for her, saber going to position four at his back to deflect an incoming bolt, then swinging at her center mass. The Jedi ducked the strike, unclipping her own saber as the remotes chased, but not activating it. Xel adapted quickly, spinning back around and executing a 360 degree slash at her midsection that never landed.

"Sarlacc Sweep?"

Xel simply smirked and pressed forward, almost absently deflecting two shots and ducking a third as he lunged toward her again, settling into a pattern of slashes and thrusts, all of which were dodged by the highly experienced Knight until she was backed into a corner. Green met blue in a flash of light and sparks, Xel grunting as two shots zapped him in the back. He pulled away, executing a tight backflip after briefly deactivating his saber, then reactivating it upon landing to catch four bolts in quick succession. His eyes widened as the green glow of his mother's blade approached. _Uh-oh._

Xel blocked a strike at his leg followed by a neckward slash that he ducked. Zap-block, slash-duck, combat roll. His teeth clenched as he tried to put some distance between them. _Shien's a lot harder to pull off than it looks in the holocron._ A slash at his arm was deflected and countered with an upward cut. Telia sidestepped it and motioned for one of the remotes to flank him. Xel also motioned, but he sent the remote clattering into a wall, temporarily taking it out of the game as he kept her relatively infrequent attacks at bay, repeating the same tactic with each of the remotes in turn until it was only him and Telia.

He pressed the attack, trying to break her focus on the remotes and keep them out of the fight. Her blade met his again and again in a blinding series of flashes and explosive sizzles, both of them calling on the Force more and more, the house around them fading into the category of irrelevant noise as their duel intensified. She was holding back, and he knew it, so he pressed the attack, practically slamming their sabers together and actually adding Force to his strikes. The new tactic threw Telia off a bit, and she withdrew for a moment to reassess her situation. When he charged forward and leapt into the air, she rolled to the side, barely dodging his downward-cutting Falling Avalanche.

But that small margin was intended.

As she spun to face him, climbing to her feet simultaneously, her blade slashed horizontally, grazing his chest armor as he withdrew. Immediately, she followed this strike with a Force Push that sent him careening into a nearby couch. Xel awkwardly rolled off the cushions to his feet, throwing up his hand to Push a reactivated remote into its partner and Force Jumping the distance to Telia, curling and flipping midair to dodge another zap. As he fell toward her, a sharp feeling of unease ran through him, his mind wondering at the smirk on her face until she raised her hand and increased the rate of his descent.

"Woah!" he yelled, throwing up his forearm and saber as she sidestepped out of the way, slashing both his defensive measures as he flew past her. Xel clambered to his feet, thrusting his saber toward her blindly and having it knocked from his hand a moment later. _Big uh-oh._ Even knowing her saber wasn't lethal at the moment, he couldn't help but feel fear at the lightning-fast thrust she directed at his chest. His eyes snapped shut and hands closed into fists. The sizzles of lightsaber contact reached his ears, as did Telia's sharp intake of breath. When he opened his eyes, he could see why.

Both his hands were wrapped around her blade, actually holding it in place just three inches from his chest plate. His eyes widened.

"How?" he asked. "I mean, I know it's non-lethal, but…it always hurts."

She looked down at his hands and smirked. "Of course."

"What?"

Telia withdrew, and he released the blade as she deactivated it. "Your gloves."

"What about—?" He stopped in his tracks, looking down at the crushgaunts. "Oh," he breathed in realization, Alen's confused figure approaching in his peripheral vision.

"What's 'oh?'" he asked.

Telia and Xel looked at him, then at his gloves. "Mandalorian crushgaunts," she said. "Made with a microionized _beskar_ weave."

"So…oh Force, you've gotta be kidding me." Alen approached, mouth wide open, grabbing his brother's hands and inspecting them. "He can catch lightsaber blades?"

She smiled and nodded.

"That's…"

"Useful?" Xel suggested.

"Amazing. I'd never heard of anything like that before."

"There's a lot you don't know about Mandos."

Alen scrunched up his face a bit. "Startin' to think it'd be in my best interest to." His blue eyes locked with Xel's. "And I'd like you to teach me."

"We'll _both_ teach you," Telia said, looping arms around both their shoulders. "No reason Xel should be the only one learning."

Alen was silent a while. "It's a shame it took me so long to realize that."

Xel thought about it for a few moments. "Well…I can't say I blame you for not considering it. After all, Mandos, war, anger. I represent all those things, and I'm so completely opposed to the way you were raised. I get that it'd be a little off-putting."

"Well…consider me 'put on.'"

…

Imperial Center

"Have you found him?"

"No, my lord, but I have narrowed down his location to the Obroa-skai system."

Darth Vader was silent for so long, his apprentice began to think he hadn't heard him. "I see…and how to you intend to rectify this lapse in knowledge?"

The silver-eyed man kneeling at his feet bowed his head and pursed his lips. "I am…considering several options."

"I'm waiting."

"A trap, my lord. We will have to draw him out."

"With what bait? What do we have that he could want?" Vader knew the answer to that question, but he left its acquisition to his apprentice. _For all his time in my service, he is still lacking._

Suddenly, the pale man's eyes widened and a small smirk settled onto his face. "You, my lord. Xel Caden is Mandalorian, and in my research, I have found them to be a vindictive people. If you are seen in the Obroa-skai system, he may attempt to take his revenge."

Vader smiled behind his helmet, striding away and folding his hands behind his back, once again staring out into the dense metropolis of Coruscant. "I see." His eyes closed as he recalled a memory. They opened a moment later and focused on his kneeling guest as he once again verified his suspicions. "He is not alone."

The man's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"When I slew his father on Nar Shaddaa, I could feel the hint of his presence, even after he jumped out of the system. His anger was like a signal flare, obvious but imprecise. Barely two days later, that presence and anger vanished."

His apprentice rose to his feet. "You mean…someone is concealing him?"

Vader looked out at the metropolis again. "More likely, someone is _training_ him."

The man got his meaning. "A Jedi. Caden is under the protection of a Jedi."

"Which means we must have supplemental bait, one for the boy and the other his guardian." Vader could see the gears turning in his apprentice's head.

"I see, my lord. I will…meditate on this."

"See that you do," Vader ordered with a point of his finger. "Failure in this matter will _not_ be tolerated. If he vanishes because of your incompetence…"

The man bowed low. "I understand, my master. I will not fail you."

"Then you are dismissed." With a whirlwind of black cloak, Vader strode away from his apprentice back toward the window, crossing his arms as he stared up into the night sky. _That boy will be mine. Let the Jedi try to defend him._ His mechanical right fist clenched hard. _Not even the Force can save those who oppose me._

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you're all enjoying the story so far and having a wonderful new year. Just wanted to let you guys know that as much as I love writing this, without someone to appreciate it, my story is meaningless. Thank you all for taking this journey with me. Your reviews and comments and readership keep me going as much as my love for the universe, so thank you. I hope you're looking forward to more next week. Thursday releases are back on then.<p>

_Oya, ner vode._

- CDrake


	13. Deceived

With a whirlwind of black cloak, Vader strode away from his apprentice back toward the window, crossing his arms as he stared up into the night sky. _That boy will be mine. Let the Jedi try to defend him._ His mechanical right fist clenched hard. _Not even the Force can save those who oppose me._

…

2 weeks later

Li-am residence, Obroa-skai

1 year, 2 months BBY

Telia was excited. That much at least was apparent to her two sons, but the cause for such excitement eluded them until she approached.

"Well, Alen, it looks like our stay here finally paid off."

The brothers exchanged a look with raised eyebrows, returning their eyes to her.

"The Imps missed something."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

"The archives," Alen breathed out, some of her excitement filling him. "She's talking about the archives of the Jedi Academy."

One of Xel's eyebrows raised. "You mean…they found Jedi artifacts."

Telia nodded, smiling slightly as she placed a holoprojector on the table between them. "Yes, and one in particular."

A familiar cube-like object greeted the trio.

"A holocron," both brothers said in unison.

"Exactly. Under heavy guard and scheduled to be moved sometime within the week."

Xel gave her a confused look. "Moved? Why not destroy it like everything else?" "Holocrons aren't like normal devices," Alen explained. "They're crafted not only from metal and circuitry, but with the Force as well. That, like lightsabers, makes them difficult to destroy. Most of the time, they're even sturdier than lightsabers."

"Right," Telia said. "The holocrons they found on their first sweep also had to be moved offworld, all the way to Coruscant, for disposal."

Xel raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"If they were moved to Imperial Center, that means that either Vader, the Emperor, or both, were involved. Why would someone as power-hungry as those two destroy potential weapons, even if _are_ of Jedi origin?"

The Knight's eyebrows raised and corners of her lips turned slightly upward. "Good point. It _would_ take some time, but…history tells how the Sith managed to corrupt certain holocrons, thereby overriding the safeguards within. I have no doubt that the Emperor has access to such power, and given enough time, he could most certainly crack them."

Alen shook his head slowly. "I'll never understand the Sith. Never understand their _insatiable_ hunger."

Xel had to suppress a smirk and forced his face to remain neutral as he spoke. "Considering we're both going through puberty, growth spurts and the like…"

Alen looked at him funny. "What?" He looked genuinely confused for a second before he rolled his eyes and groaned slightly as Telia let out a small chuckle.

Xel just leaned back in his seat, grinning smugly. "See? _She_ gets my jokes."

"And on that note," Telia said, cutting into Alen's glare and thumbing the holoprojector, bringing up a series of maps and schematics. "The transport convoy will be taking it from the Celebratus Archive here—" she pointed out a large, regal building in the interior of Obron City, "—to Aurora Spaceport here." The holomap drifted several miles to the location in question, a red line indicating the transport's likely route. "The holocron will be kept aboard an Imperial Troop Transport." An image of a long, truck-like hovercraft with heavy armor and a small turbolaser cannon on the top replaced the city. "Ray shielded, heavily armored."

Xel stroked his slightly scruffy chin. "The _Kandosii's_ cannons can crack that armor with one or two passes."

"And attract every TIE Fighter in the system," Alen added, voice almost scolding. "Honestly, _vod_, do you _want_ us to get caught?"

"Well, no, but…"

"But what?"

A small, amused smile came to Xel's face.

"What? Why are you staring at me?"

"You called me '_vod_.'"

Alen's eyes drifted off, mouth slightly open, before he shrugged and quirked a smirk. "So I did."

Returning their attention to the projector, the brothers watched and listened with professional attention as she laid out the plan.

…

1 day later

The Executor, Kuat mobile shipyard, location unknown

"The move is set to happen tomorrow at noon local time."

"And you were sure to supply just enough information to pique their interest?"

"I was, master. Every step has been meticulously planned."

Vader nodded and strode down the dark halls of his flagship's bridge, long, heavy strides taking him across the room. "Well done." He turned his head to an Imperial officer. "Lieutenant, prepare a shuttle to depart to the _Retribution_ and tell the captain to plot a course to the Obroa-skai system."

"At once, Lord Vader." The officer saluted crisply and spun on his heel, fast-walking out of the Dark Lord's home.

"We will soon have the Mandalorian at our mercy, my lord."

Vader glanced at his apprentice before resuming his pacing. "No. I will retrieve the boy and eliminate his guardian. _Alone_. You will remain here and await my command."

The man's silver eyes widened slightly. "My lord, you attempted capture on Nar Shaddaa alone as well, and he escaped you." He didn't notice the stiffness in his master's stance as he halted. "If we take him together—" His next words were instantly cut off as his trachea slammed shut, his feet slowly lifting off the ground as he clawed for air.

"Did I stutter?" Vader asked, voice lowered dangerously.

"N-No master."

"Because it would seem that you have failed to heed an order, and you are simply not stupid enough to do that."

"M-My lord—" he gasped.

"Since it would appear you misheard, I will repeat myself. _I_ will go to the _Retribution_, journey to Obroa-skai, and capture Xel Caden…_alone_." Vader's fingers relaxed, dropping his apprentice to the floor in a coughing, gasping heap.

"V-Very good…master," he got out between coughs, eyes drifting up to see Vader's cloak billow with movement.

"So it is." Vader began walking with purpose, this time toward the exit. He halted in the doorway. "Defy me again, and your punishment will be far more severe."

Lord Keldon, apprentice of Darth Vader, grit his teeth and bowed his head as low as possible, using all his Force talent to veil and suppress his monumental hatred as he responded in a contrite tone. "Yes, my master."

…

1 day later

Obron City, Obroa-skai

"Xel, you linked?"

Caden tapped the side of his helmet. "Here, over."

"The transport should be getting loaded now."

His eyebrows furrowed inside his helmet. "Loading? Loading what? It's one holocron."

"Exactly," Telia responded. "It's one holocron, so adding more extraneous cargo—"

"Would decrease the chances of potential thieves finding it a dozenfold. How do _we_ find it then?"

"Holocrons are made with the Force, so when in the presence of one, its signature will act as a beacon to your Force Sense. As long as one of us makes it inside, we should be able to pinpoint it within seconds."

Xel smiled wryly. "That's assuming my dear brother can get the ray shield down."

An adolescent snort was all he got over comms.

"Xel, don't tease him. He's been working with wires since he was old enough to talk. Speaking of, how's the alarm going?"

"Gimme a minute," Alen responded agitatedly. A soft metal clang came a few seconds later. "I'm in." A minute or so passed before his side of the link came online again. "Crap."

"What's wrong?" Telia asked.

"There isn't just one transport. There's three."

"_Osik,_" Xel spat.

"This…is a setback…but not to worry."

"How is this not worry material?"

"Three transports, three of us."

"That wasn't the plan," Alen pointed out.

"Plans change," Xel responded, shouldering a Plex missile launcher.

A high-velocity rocket streaked from the weapon, smashing into the blast doors of the loading dock and carving a hole large enough for a transport. Xel leapt off his twenty-story perch in a swan dive, dropping ten stories before igniting his jetpack and arcing upward, turning his downward momentum into diagonal velocity and shooting through the gap within seconds. A half-second after he entered, a dozen E-11s and DL-44s rang out as both stormtroopers and local security mounted a defense. A well-placed wrist rocket silenced half of them either with death or heavy injuries, a full-auto burst from Xel's pistols taking out another two before the Mando made it to cover.

Quickly inspecting himself for injuries, an eyebrow raised as he didn't notice a single scratch or char mark. Xel hadn't even realized how fast he'd been moving. Another DL-model blaster rang out, but Xel recognized a slight difference in the noise and smiled, popping out of cover to lay down another salvo. The remaining eight Imps had quickly found cover, but the security forces were cut down within seconds, unequipped as they were for the simultaneous assault of a Mandalorian warrior and Jedi Knight. Sprinting to closer cover, Xel plugged a stormtrooper in the elbow, crippling his gun arm before he retreated behind a crate.

"Launch the transports!" one of them, a tan-pauldroned commander, said.

At once, the three armored hovercraft began moving, using the hole Xel made to make their escape.

"Get after them!" Telia shouted.

Xel nodded and fell into a sprint, using the Force to increase his speed threefold and catching up to the rearmost, and slowest, transport within seconds. Apparently they hadn't had time to activate the ray shields, as he boarded the craft with no issues. As he crawled toward its rooftop hatch, he put a finger to his helmet.

"Alen, where are you?"

"Kinda busy," he responded through a burst of static. "I'm taking the front transport. Did my shield hack work?"

Xel's eyebrows raised. "Well, I haven't been incinerated or electrocuted yet, so I'd say yes. Did you get all three?"

"Barely, but yeah."

Shab_, he _is_ good._

"I'll take the middle," Telia said from Xel's right, causing the boy to jump a little.

He hadn't even noticed her land next to him. "Woah, no. _I'll _take the middle. There's at least a twenty-foot gap between each transport. I've got a jetpack, you don't, and if you miss, there's no way you'll be able to catch up at these speeds."

She pressed her lips together and nodded in acknowledgement.

Xel turned forward and called on the Force for guidance, sprinting toward the edge and the second vehicle, taking a Force Leap and using his jetpack to add thrust. Hovering for a moment, he landed on his target with no difficulties. That is, until the roof hatch opened and released a stormtrooper commander. Two E-11 rounds pinged off his armor before he returned fire, stifling a curse at the portable energy shield his opponent activated on his left wrist. The 2-foot-wide blue disc deflected every round Xel threw his way, and although the Mando was faring just as well in his _beskar_, the collective energy of the shots was beginning to seep through. It was just a matter of time before the stormie's blaster found a gap.

Calling on the Force, he Focused hard, his body responding instantly and snapping in several directions, dodging the commander's shots for a few moments before he rolled under another salvo and closed the ten-foot distance. Xel fired his MAP, tagging the commander in the shin. The white plastoid was ruptured but held, and the commander managed to keep his footing. He swung his shield at Xel's neck as the Mando closed the distance, the blue disc sizzling over his head as he ducked the deadly strike, planting a solid uppercut on the commander's armored chest. He barely staggered before swinging the shield again, slicing through the supplemental antenna on Xel's helmet as the boy drew his knife.

The _beskar_ sunk into the man's left hip, eliciting a harsh cry of pain before Xel ripped it out and shoved his helmet off, head-butting him solidly and tossing his agonized body off the side. The plastoid-clad soldier rolled to a stop as the transports streaked by, Xel making his way to the rooftop hatch and punching the controls. The portal hissed open a moment before he dropped in feet-first, both pistols drawn. Much to his surprise, the truck was driving itself. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he scanned the transport for any Force signatures. Instead, all he got was an image of a coiled predator. His eyes snapped open in alarm as he triggered his jetpack, shooting out the hatch a moment before the entire vehicle exploded.

"Xel! _Xel_!"

"I'm okay!" he shouted back, hovering just forty feet over the flaming wreck, chest heaving as adrenaline rushed through his system. "I'm okay. Be advised, the decoy transports are rigged to blow."

"Got it," Alen grunted, the sounds of blaster fire coming from his end. "Don't think this one's a decoy though. They're putting up a fight."

"_Buir_—"

"I heard," she replied instantly, her tan-clad form shooting out the roof of the rear transport as Xel approached, running toward the front of the vehicle and him. "It's gonna blow!"

"I gotcha!" he shouted back, outstretching his hands as he got close.

Telia Force Jumped with a grunt, reaching out and interlocking her fingers with his as he flew away, her former position now a flaming pile of durasteel. "Get us to the front!"

"On it!" Xel used his integrated HUD to trigger a strong burst from his jetpack, carrying them all the way to the air above the vehicle before it turned sharply, crashing into a nearby building.

"Alen, you all right?"

Several coughs preceded the Jedi's response. "Yeah, fine. One of 'em's got the holocron though."

"Copy. Xel—"

"Got it." He dropped altitude and his mother a moment later, the Jedi rolling on impact as her son followed suit, absently noticing Alen sprint out of the wreckage to follow.

The three hunters ran after the courier, a fully armored scout trooper, pursuing him through one hall after the next and steadily catching up.

…

Telia grit her teeth as the trooper slammed a blast door in their faces. _Can't let him escape._ She held her hands at her sides, building power for a Force Blast before Xel laid a hand on her arm. Her eyes drifted to see Alen slicing into the door controls, opening them barely a second later and initiating the chase once again. The two Jedi and Mando kept up pursuit, the trooper barely fifty feet ahead of them. When he took a wrong turn, landing himself in a dead-end, a window at his front and his three pursuers at his back, the scout stopped in his tracks, holocron in a secure case at his hip, and spun toward them, drawing his sidearm in a flash.

Before Xel could plug him, Alen raised his right hand and made a clenching motion. To their surprise, the scout seemed to seize and choke for a moment before falling over. Mouth open, Telia scanned the man with the Force, finding him alive but unconscious. Both turned to the younger Jedi.

"What in _shab_ was that?"

Alen fidgeted a little. "Little something I started working on after the…incident a few weeks ago. I saw how you knocked the Gran unconscious by choking him and started researching anatomy. Turns out if you cut off blood flow to the brain for just long enough, you can knock most species unconscious without doing permanent damage."

A small feeling of professional admiration came from Xel as they approached the trooper's immobile body. "Any idea what you want to call it?"

"Do I need to?"

The Mando shrugged as Telia crouched and retrieved the case, using the Force to begin unlocking it. "Don't _need_ to, but…if _I_ created a Force technique, I'd want to make sure everyone knew it."

"So what do you suggest, 'Alen's Force Sleep?'"

Xel sputtered out a snicker. "Where the _shab_ did you come up with _that_? 'Course not."

Telia cut in, half her concentration kept on the container. "How about…Force Constrict?"

Both boys chewed it over for a few seconds before the move's creator shrugged. "I'd say it works."

The case popped open and holocron was revealed.

"And so does our _buir_."

Telia could feel the smiles on both their faces as she raised it and stood, her own smirk slowly fading. _Something's wrong._ Her eyes closed, and she focused on the holocron in the Force. _There's…nothing._

"No way," Xel said, agitated.

"All this way," Alen started in the same tone, "all this effort…for a decoy?"

Telia's eyes remained closed, scrunching even tighter as she focused in the Force, a supremely bad feeling in her gut until it was verified. Her eyes flew open as her expression turned fearful.

"No, Alen," she practically whispered. "Not a decoy." She spun around, facing a side door and igniting her lightsaber in one fluid movement, a slight scowl on her face. "A trap."

When the boys turned to face her object of focus, they too felt fear engulf them before snapping to separate emotions, one calm determination, the other fiery anger. Xel's blasters left their holsters and Alen's lightsaber joined Telia's, two glowing, humming blades and a pair of warm barrels facing off against Darth Vader and the two stormtrooper squads flanking him.

"Greetings, Jedi," his metallic voice boomed, bending slightly at the waist in a mocking bow.

"Whatever you want, Sith," Telia hissed, pointing her blade at him threateningly, "you won't find it here."

"Ah, but I already have."

She felt his gaze drift to Xel, whose aura was slowly but surely morphing into a vortex of black hatred. "You will not touch him, Vader."

"And who will stop me?" he asked, taking a step and shifting his gaze toward her, lightsaber in hand but inactive. "I have slain a hundred Jedi, Masters, Knights, and Apprentices. What chance do you and your protégé think you have?" His focus went to Xel again. "And you, Mandalorian. What place do these Jedi have in your life? They slaughtered your people at Galidraan, humiliated you, chased you across the galaxy. They have done so for centuries, millennia, ever since the time of Revan. They are not deserving of your loyalty or mercy."

"And you think _you_ are?" the Mando snarled. "_Buir_, give me the order. Let me plug this _chakaar_."

Suddenly, Vader's threatening feel changed ever so slightly, suddenly wrapped in a cloak of darkness and ambiguity, something that set Telia's nerves even more on edge. She wasn't sure whether Vader knew the meaning of the first Mando word from years of working with clones or simply the tone in which it was spoken, but one thing was for sure. The Dark Lord now knew they were related.

"Mother," he said softly, confirming her fears. "I see now that I've misjudged the situation." He actually seemed amused by the fact. His black, unyielding gaze went to Telia's eyes after drifting over the boys, seeming to bore into her skull. "Surrender, Jedi, and you will all be spared."

"To what end?" she retorted. "Capture and torture? Months of agony and brainwashing to break us into being slaves for your emperor?" She smirked sardonically and shook her head, setting her stance. "I don't think so."

Vader stood immobile for a few seconds, his presence alone beyond intimidating. "As you wish." A flick of his left wrist spurred his guards into action, half of them opening fire at once as Xel leapt sideways behind cover, the two Jedi batting bolt after bolt out of the air. The Dark Lord himself just stood there with crossed arms, admiring the skills of his opponents and focusing on one in particular.

Telia slashed through a commander's E-11 as she closed the distance, disarming and Force Throwing him into a pair of his troopers. A blaster bolt nearly tagged her in the leg, but a quick deflect by Alen saved her. She Force Pushed another trooper into a nearby wall, returning the favor and glancing sideways to see Xel laying down a crippling array of fire on the second squad. Two bolts tagged his shoulder and chest plates, causing her to wince, even though she knew he hardly felt it. A wrist rocket slammed into the wall behind one squad, showering them with molten rocks and shrapnel as he continued his pattern of fire.

Telia slashed her saber across a stormtrooper's chest, pushing him back into a cluster of his troops, then pulling another soldier into the path of her blade and tossing him aside. Her lightsaber was an emerald blur as Alen's was sapphire, one crimson bolt after the next deflected or redirected into the shooter until only four were left. Xel quickly gunned one down, sending the other three behind separate cover with another automatic salvo, his pistols running near empty. Alen charged for a pair, twist-flipping over their cover to deliver a horizontal slash to one's arm and a downward cut to the other's weapon.

Before he could do more, the young Jedi froze and dropped his saber, the weapon shutting off automatically as it hit the ground.

"Alen!" Telia shouted, eyes darting to Xel, who was engaged hand-to-hand with the commander, then back to her son, who was slowly being lifted into the air.

"You were correct when you said blood flow was the key," Vader boomed, one hand raised as he strode toward Alen. "Your method, however, is…unrefined. Allow me to demonstrate." Vader's fist clenched slightly, and the boy instantly went limp.

"Alen!" both of the others screamed in tandem, watching as the young Jedi's limp body slumped to the ground.

Telia stared in horror at her unconscious son, then looked at Vader, upper lip curling into a snarl as anger rose within her. Without warning, she leapt at him, twisting midair to land behind him and perform a sweeping cut at his legs. Vader leapt over the strike in a black blur, a sharp _snap-hiss_ heralding his entrance of the fight. Two fast horizontal cuts were deflected off the Darth's blade as he held her back effortlessly, his saber a red blur as Telia kept advancing. He gave ground slowly, intentionally, forcing her to extend herself more and more until he caught one of her strikes and shoved her blade aside, slashing at her neck and meeting empty air as she rolled to his side and once again tried to take out his legs.

A rapid sidestep on Vader's part once again got him out of her reach, and falling diagonal strike pounded her crouched guard, knocking her back into a roll with the powerful blow. She ran toward him in a diagonal motion, ducking another neck strike and running on a nearby wall, then springing off in a counterclockwise spin, adding force to a flying horizontal strike. His guard took the blow easily as he countered with one of his own, twisting his hips in tandem with a two-handed swing that nearly knocked her saber from her hand. Telia withdrew rapidly, eyes widening and breathing becoming labored as a slight degree of panic filled her.

_He's _impossibly_ strong, and it's like he can see my attacks coming._ The massive Sith approached, striding toward her at a quick, even pace. Her eyes widened further as she felt his intent in the Force, leaping backward to avoid a diagonal strike and diving to the side to dodge another lethal blow. As she scrambled to her feet, he slowly turned to face her, standing immobile just eight feet away.

"You cannot defeat me alone, Jedi."

Her gaze drifted around the room, looking for Xel, for any signs of Alen reawakening, any indication that she could make it. Her brown eyes met the unyielding black orbs of Vader's mask. "I don't need to," she said resolutely, igniting her saber again and setting her stance.

"You're right," another filtered voice said.

Her eyes twitched as new fear rushed through her, not for herself, but for the new combatant. Her dark gaze shifted to Alen's immobile body, to his fallen lightsaber, which shook and vibrated before flying behind her. A _snap-hiss_ reached her ears with a new and familiar hum, a dark feeling settling into her gut at its approach. The silver-and-blue clad figure of Xel Caden stood beside her, Mandalorian armor gleaming in both the noonday sun and pale blue light cast by his procured saber.

Telia's eyes widened at the sight, seeing the slightly taller Xander with her own lightsaber in her mind's eye, surrounded by flames and death. _By the Force…it really is like he never left._ Refocusing on the Dark Lord, she was surprised to find…amusement. It was hard to imagine, but somewhere behind that mask, Darth Vader was smiling.

And it terrified her.

…

Xel gripped Alen's lightsaber in both hands, the last five months of training coming back to him in a whirl of memories and feelings as a cacophony of emotions swirled within him like an unstoppable vortex. On one hand, there was fear, fear for his mother and unconscious brother, fear for himself against such an enemy, an enemy that had so easily disarmed him during their last confrontation. There was iron determination, as strong and resolute as the finest _beskar_. There was anger, anger at the man who had taken his father and now threatened to take his mother and brother as well, to rob him of the last traces of happiness he had.

Above all, though, there was hatred. Outright, black hatred that sunk its fiery claws into his heart and soul, twisting them around as they burned away at him, threatening to drag him into an inferno of agonizing pain. It was fighting him for control, and he it, but it promised power, the power to avenge his father and protect his family. If he simply let it take over…

His teeth slammed together as the three of them faced off, immobile, the battle now seeming to take place in the mind. Xel wanted to kill Vader. No, he wanted to cripple him, dismember and disarm him so that he could make him suffer before the end, inflict all the pain he'd been feeling for months because of what he'd done. A shuddering breath left him. _This…this isn't me._ He looked at his hands, as he had twice over the last few months after losing control. _I'm no sadist._ His teeth clenched determinedly. _And no slave._ With a strong blow, he shoved his hatred back, yanking the reins of control from its hands as easily as from a child. _It's _my _choice._

An angered hiss came from the black-clad figure in front of him, and Xel instantly knew that his hate was exactly what Vader was after. A smirk made its way onto his face as he mockingly saluted Vader with his saber. A sharp pang of fear from his mother's bond was the only warning he got before his enemy drove a vicious blow toward his torso. Xel snapped backward and raised his blade defensively, the sapphire shaft battered away by the Darth's horizontal strike. Shab_, he's strong!_ Vader didn't stop, repeatedly assaulting Xel as the boy struggled to keep up, his mother's side attacks batted away as if they were mere annoyances. Realizing he couldn't match him in a show of brute strength, Xel backpedaled. _Before I knew about the Force, I was a hunter._

He smiled confidently. _And a damn good one._ His jetpack carried him backward, well out of his reach, as his left hand drew a pistol and fired repeatedly. Vader deflected several shots with his blade before pivoting to the right to lock his saber with Telia's. _That's it!_ Xel fired at his exposed side, watching as the ionized plasma streaked death toward this long-hated Sith.

Only to gape in shock as he simply lifted his free hand and redirected the bolt into a wall. _Reflected it…he knows Force Reflect._ His teeth gritted as he reached out over Telia's bond.

_"Get away from him!"_

She glanced in his direction in confusion, barely holding her own in the lock despite Vader's obvious restraint, before pulling their blades apart and leaping backward.

Xel raised his left arm and clenched his index. _Reflect this you son of a—_

A wrist rocket shot toward Vader, who simply stood there calmly, raising a hand as it exploded in his face.

Xel outright stared as the smoke cleared, revealing an intact, albeit scuffed and scratched, Darth Vader.

"A pitiful attempt...by a desperate opponent." The Dark Lord reached out, latching onto Xel with the Force and yanking him closer, into the path of his blade.

The Mando recognized the move, as did his mother.

"Xel!" she shrieked, unable to do a thing though she tried to alter his course with the Force.

The boy threw his saber up in desperation. Ruby and sapphire collided for an instant as Xel flew past, rolling several times only to keep going as Vader slammed him against a wall, saber deactivating. Telia was smacked aside with a Force Push when she tried to intervene, the Darth resuming his telekinetic assault by slamming the Mando into one wall after the next, the boy's frustrated grunts and yells indicating his rising anger.

…

A blur of green entered Vader's peripheral vision, and he ignited his saber to meet it, catching her blade for barely an instant before she snapped back and aimed a thrust at his chest. A twist of his wrist redirected her strike, and he lunged at her neck as she ducked and planted a firm kick on his midsection. He was barely fazed, and advanced toward her, broadening his shoulders and raining down strike after strike, powerful vertical blows that took advantage of his superior size and strength to batter her defenses into nonexistence. Telia rapidly withdrew, practically heaving for breath as she considered her options.

When her gaze drifted to the open door, Vader leapt toward it, barring the way as surely as if he had been a phrik alloy wall.

"There is no escape," he boomed. "Not as you are." His head tilted slightly. "There is darkness in you, Jedi; I can feel it. Anger, fear, resentment, hatred even." He puffed his chest out tauntingly. "_I_ destroyed your love. I _slew_ him with my own hands." He paused to let it sink in, watching the expression on her face darken. "Now, release your anger! Do not deny the fire raging within!" He clenched his left fist for emphasis. "_Embrace_ it, as your son has!"

Her gaze drifted over to the boy in question, who was dazed and desperately trying to regain his footing. It went to Alen, who was still out. To the exit, still barred by Vader. Her teeth gritted as all her Jedi training strained against the monster begging to be released. In her mind's eye, she saw the Sith's black form lying in a smoking, charred heap at her feet, a mocking expression on her face as she severed his miserable head, taking vengeance for all the lives he'd destroyed, for her husband, her Xander. She looked back at Xel and narrowed her eyes, the urges faltering with every passing second before returning her eyes to Vader.

"No. That's not my way. Not my choice."

"So be it."

Vader raised his saber vertically, and Telia prepared herself for an attack, but not for what came next. Several tiles tore themselves from the walls, streaking toward her in a storm of ceramic hail. She dashed backward out of the way only to be smacked in the head by another object. Immediately, the Knight defaulted to a Soresu drill, her saber bursting one primitive missile after the next in a whirlwind of light until a candelabra tore itself from the wall and smacked solidly into her nose.

Telia shrieked as blood filled her face from the broken appendage, stumbling backward and leaving herself open to a Force Push that landed her on her back. Vader rapidly closed the distance, raising his blade for the finishing blow as the sound of jets was heard.

…

"Noooo!"

The crimson shaft raised and fell in a flash—smacking right into Xel's back as he flew between them. The sizzle of metal being cut reached the ears of all present and conscious, and even Vader seemed to hesitate for a moment. That was all Telia needed to blow him twenty feet backward, well away from her potentially fatally injured son.

"Xel," she said frantically, cradling his body. "Xel, talk to me, _please_!"

A firm grip fell on her shoulder.

"_Udesii, buir_." Xel rolled out of her grasp to show the damage. "See? Didn't even scratch me." Vader's blade had indeed cut through metal, but only the metal chassis of his jetpack. The _beskar_ underneath was blackened and slightly indented, but intact.

Telia heaved a sigh of relief, glancing back to see Vader storming toward them. The pair went in opposite directions, lightsabers igniting as they attacked in tandem.

But their opponent was no longer playing games.

Xel's rage-driven strikes were knocked aside like leaves in the wind and Telia's entire body shuddered with the force of the Dark Lord's deflects and counterattacks. Vader's crimson blade left two more char-marks on Xel's armor, in locations that would have killed him had he been wearing inferior material, before the boy was thrown against a wall and kept there by sheer force of will, the Sith locking blades with Telia and pushing her back step by step. She set her stance, but her feet slipped on the tiled floor as he pressed his saber against hers relentlessly, pushing her closer and closer to the window.

Caden saw what he was doing and widened his eyes in renewed fear. _No…no!_ Fire rose within him yet again, the old hatred he had denied before. Now, he took it in both hands, not releasing it like a wild strill, but taking hold of it as he did Alen's lightsaber. A guttural roar rose within his chest and released, shattering Vader's hold on him as his feet hit the floor, instantly falling into a sprint as he dashed toward the Sith Lord, saber flashing with his steps as he rapidly closed the distance. Xel leapt at his exposed back, blade held high and falling like a Force-powered avalanche on his enemy.

Only for his entire body to be slammed into the floor, creating a small crater as Vader pinned him with the Force, shoving Telia's blade aside and backhanding her solidly. Xel, just within reach, swung at his legs from the ground, missing wide as the Dark Lord flicked his wrist, flipping and smashing him into the ground back-first, then tossing him directly into his mother, driving them both to the edge of the window ten feet away. Sore, exhausted muscles worked overtime as the Mando fought to regain his footing, only managing to rise to one knee as Telia staggered to her feet and ignited her saber, body shaking violently.

…

"You are beaten," Vader growled. "It is both foolish and useless to resist further. Surrender now, and you may yet be allowed to live."

"Live?" she asked shakily. "Again I say, for what? Torture and agony at your hands and that of your emperor? A life of perpetual humiliation and servitude under our sworn enemy?" Her teeth clenched. "I. Don't. Think so."

"You. Have. No. Choice."

_There's always a choice,_ Xander's voice said from a memory. _Is there?_ she thought, looking around herself frantically. Xel had all but collapsed. Alen was out of commission and only starting to show signs of waking. Her exit was blocked by Vader. Her saber shut off as she finally understood. There could be no victory for her and no escape. Realization flashed through her. _For _me_._ She looked at Alen again, at his position just beyond Vader and between her and the exit door, looked at Xel, who was between her and the window. Her eyes widened. _The window!_ A quick glance confirmed her fears. A fifteen-story drop awaited anyone crazy enough to try it.

_Crazy enough…or brilliant enough?_ Xander's voice again flowed into her thoughts as she closed her eyes. A plan instantly formed in her head, cool confidence settling into her gut as she opened her eyes and stared at Vader.

"You will not have my sons," she said firmly, voice stronger than it had been throughout the whole fight. "You will _never_ have my sons." Her dark brown eyes met Xel's t-visor for barely a moment as she gave him a mournful look. That one glance was enough to confirm his fears. "I'm sorry."

"No. _Buir_, no!"

That was all he managed to say before she extended her hands in opposite directions, pushing Alen's waking form through the doorway and catapulting Xel through the window into the open air, her right hand slamming a blast door between Vader and her eldest son before her lightsaber ignited threateningly. Love for her sons filled every fiber of her being, every cell and pore. She smiled.

_I gave them my love. All I can give them now is time._

…

Suspension. That one instant where you're floating midair, weightless. It was always a disorienting feeling whenever it happened. In this case, disorientation instantly gave way to panic and terror, then anger as Xel considered what had just happened before he started to fall. _You can't make _this _decision for me, _buir_! Not this time!_ His left arm raised and right index lifted off his brother's saber, firing his grappling hook into the wall of the building just below the window. In a rapid pendulum motion, his booted legs slammed into a supporting wall just five stories lower. He punched a button on his gauntlet, reeling in the cable as he ran back up the wall, desperation lending strength to his taxed body before he saw the flash of a green lightsaber.

His eyes widened. _No._ Fear filled him as the blazing shaft sliced through his cable.

_"Telia, no!"_

"Noooo!" he roared in rage, angry tears rushing down his face as he fell eleven stories, igniting Alen's lightsaber on instinct and plunging it into the building underhandedly, slowing his fall until his feet unexpectedly hit a divot. His focus faltered for barely a moment, but it was enough to send the blade spinning out of the wall and the saber out of his hand.

Another rage-filled cry left his body before it knocked against an outcropping near the building's lower supports, tumbling another two stories as he Shielded himself instinctively, bouncing off one ledge after the next, landing with a hard smack in Obron's lower city. He absently heard the distinctive clink of a lightsaber against the stone floor next to his body as black and red warred for control in his vision. Collective rage and grief filled him as the darkness began to win.

Buir_…I've failed you…again._

He blacked out a moment later.

* * *

><p>Musical Inspirations:<p>

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith - General Grievous: start-1:00—Vader and Telia duel to Xel's entry, 1:00-1:23—Xel's struggle, 1:23-end—two on one to Xel's impact with Telia


	14. Promise

Another rage-filled cry left his body before it knocked against an outcropping near the building's lower supports, tumbling another two stories as he Shielded himself instinctively, bouncing off one ledge after the next, landing with a hard smack in Obron's lower city. He absently heard the distinctive clink of a lightsaber against the stone floor next to his body as black and red warred for control in his vision. Collective rage and grief filled him as the darkness began to win.

Buir_…I've failed you…again._

He blacked out a moment later.

…

6 minutes later

Lower City, Obron City, Obroa-skai

1 year, 2 months BBY

"'Ey, look there."

"S'that a—?"

"He he he, yep. Genuine Mandalorian armor."

"How much does that go for on the market these days?"

"Enough that we'll be livin' the high life in record time."

"Come on then, le's strip the corpse 'fore anyone else spots 'im."

"Right. Get his head."

The two scavenging Weequays knelt at the side of a silver-and-blue clad Mandalorian warrior, red symbol emblazoned on his right shoulder, one pulling uselessly at his chest plate as the other reached for his helmet, tipping the head up so that they were effectively face to faceplate. They both nearly jumped out of their skins when a deep, filtered voice was heard.

"Just one question."

The headward Weequay's gold-brown eyes resembled the noonday sun even before a _snap-hiss_ reached his ears, a glowing blue blade hovering just inches from his head. The helmet leaned even closer, putting their faces barely an inch apart.

"What corpse?"

They both screamed in terror and fled faster than humanly possible, leaving a battered and bruised Xel on the cold stone floor, the saber turning off a second later as a long, pained groan left his body. He exercised his sore muscles, sitting up and rising into a crouched position as he looked down at the content of his hand. His fingers clenched and his teeth followed suit when a burst of static came through his helmet's comm. systems.

"Xel—Xel, do you read?"

Relief burst through him as he put an index to his helmet and responded. "Alen," he breathed out. "_Vod,_ you're all right. Thank the _Manda_." _And our mother._

"I already have. Are you all right? Are you in pain?"

Xel hissed as he stood, his bruised body protesting. "Nothing I can't handle." He debated the validity of that statement for a second as he tested his range of motion. _Cracked a couple ribs for sure…maybe a sprain or dozen._ Something clawed at his heart, a feeling he knew all too well, and he clamped down on it, the turbulent emotion threatening to tear him apart.

"Xel?"

"Yes?"

"Stop blaming yourself."

The Mando's teeth clenched. _Damn this bond._

"Curse it all you want, but this isn't your fault." Alen sounded winded. "It was her choice."

"How can you be so calm?" he asked, voice shaking slightly in pain and rage. "Your—_our_ mother just _died_."

"Did she?"

Xel gaped at the question.

"Tell me again, what did it feel like when Xander was killed?"

Realization dawned on him. "Like my heart was being torn out."

"Right. Have you felt anything like that?"

"Well, no, but…I was unconscious."

"Trust me, when a Force Bond is severed, blacking out is no obstacle to pain."

"Then…no."

Alen sighed heavily. "Good. Me neither." Silence reigned for a moment. "Can you get to your ship?"

Xel hissed again as he started putting one foot after the other, his steps quickening as a dark feeling in the back of his head increased. "Yes, I think so." He reached out to Telia's bond, trying to feel his mother's Force, but was met with an abrupt stop. His heart skipped a beat.

"Xel, focus. If she'd been killed, you would know it."

"Jedi healing trance?"

"Most likely."

"Can you get to your own ship?"

"Already halfway there. Whatever Mom did, she certainly got quite a bit of attention, so I haven't run into any trouble or tails."

"Small miracles. It'll take me a bit longer, but I should make it as well." He rounded a corner, reaching a turbolift a moment later and keying the "up" function. "Do you think Vader knows about the house?"

"No, otherwise he wouldn't have placed this trap, but I don't think it's safe anymore."

Xel nodded even though Alen couldn't see it. "Agreed. Go there and get whatever we'll need for the long-term, then get the hell off this planet."

"You mean…you're not coming?"

"Not there, no. Vader'll know my ship from Nar Shaddaa. Staying will only put you at risk, but if I go, there's a chance I'll draw them off. Make them think we're both gone."

"So you're leaving."

"Yes." He looked out the lift's window as it continued its straight climb. "For now, the best thing for us to do is split up."

"Roger that." There was silence for a moment before he spoke a little hesitantly. "Do you, by any chance, have my lightsaber?"

Xel blinked, looking down at his hand to see the cylindrical weapon in his grip. "Yes." He clipped it to his belt, his left arm falling over it to keep it hidden. "Once we're off this planet, I'll find a way to get it back to you."

"No need for anything fancy. Just give it to me when we rendezvous."

A black eyebrow raised slightly. "You sure?"

"A Jedi is more than a lightsaber. I'll be fine."

"Roger that," he answered, stepping out of the stopped turbolift and fast-walking toward a nearby speeder bike.

An Imperial scout trooper was leaned back against its chassis, oblivious to his presence until he got close. His hand reached halfway to his holster before Xel raised his hand and spoke.

"You want to give me that speeder." The trooper froze, and for a few seconds, Xel thought he'd failed.

Instead, he stepped aside and said, "It's all yours, sir."

The Mando smiled behind his faceplate. "Thank you, soldier." He mounted the bike, starting the engine and thumbing the repulsorlifts to life. "You're workin' too hard. Why don't you go out for a few rounds?"

"Yeah, why not?"

An eyebrow raised slightly as the trooper sauntered off, his white and black body a strange sight to be seen heading to the nearest red sector. The bike roared to life as Xel sped off, getting back to the spaceport as fast as possible before Vader discovered his ship and interdicted the whole planet looking for him. _If he hasn't already._ That scout had obviously recognized him. Pushing that thought away, he set his jaw and ditched the speeder behind a stack of crates at the port's loading dock, heading inside and sticking to crowds to avoid being spotted. One would think that being a six-foot man in full Mandalorian armor would make you stand out in a crowd, but like all hunters, Xel had a knack for hiding in plain sight.

The Force just made things all too easy.

A malicious smile blossomed on his face as he ducked behind two stormtroopers and through a series of maintenance tunnels to get to his docking bay. His heart jumped as two stormtroopers came into view, the pair guarding the entrance ramp of the _Kandosii'tal_. Xel strode toward them, fists curling, as he reached out with the Force, noting the sudden tension and coiled-spring feel to the soldiers.

"Don't you two have somewhere else to be? Search the other hangars, now."

They exchanged a look at his imperious tone before the one on the left spoke. "I—yes sir. Of course."

The pair left together as Xel boarded his ship, keying the throttle and activating the repulsorlifts.

"Kuat Heavy Striker," a voice called over the ship's comlink, "you are not cleared for takeoff and this spaceport is under lockdown. Power down _immediately_."

"_Usen'ye_,_ mir'osik_," he spat, shutting off the link and maxing out his throttle, shooting out of the hangar at a breakneck speed and heading directly for space.

Another voice came over his speakers. "This is Captain Ledric Faal of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Retribution_. Stand down immediately or be destroyed."

Xel scowled hard. "Like I told the other guy—" he gunned the sublight engines, spotting the massive vessel in the distance and breaking away from it hard, "blow it out your _shebs_." The link shut off as four TIE Fighters opened fire, two green bolts slamming into the back of his shields as he juked out of the way of the rest. His teeth clenched as he executed one tight roll after the other, dodging most of their fire as his nav computer calculated the jump to lightspeed. "Come on," he groaned at his ship when it buckled under more fire.

Xel executed a complex series of rolls and twists, facing his attackers and blasting two out of space with his cannons before breaking off, sensors going haywire as they pinged an impending tractor lock. "Come on!" Finally, the nav blinked blue, and he turned hard to the left, right hand shoving the hyperdrive lever forward. The stars stretched and twisted as he shot into the blue tunnel of hyperspace, away from Obroa-skai.

…

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

Xel leaned back in the captain's chair as he pulled off his helmet, laying it on the dashboard and sighing heavily. He became lost in his thoughts for a while before spotting a blinking red light. He thumbed the Holonet activator and pulled up his messages, blinking several times in disbelief before accessing the most recent one. A familiar red-skinned female filled his vision.

"Hello Xel," Maila said quietly, almost painfully. "Sorry it took me so long to get in touch." She was twisting her fingers together, looking away from the projector. "I've been…somewhat in hiding until now. It's a long, complicated story, and one that I'm sure you don't want to hear." She still couldn't meet the projector's receiver. "I heard what happened to your partner. Xel, I'm so sorry. I…I don't know if you ever want to see me again. After I left you to walk into an Imperial trap…" She sighed again. "I can understand if you wouldn't. But if that's not the case, then…" she finally met the camera, "my offer still stands."

With that, the message ended, leaving only a set of coordinates on Nar Shaddaa, no doubt to her new base of operations. Xel just sat there for a minute, finger on his temple, considering his options. He needed to wait a while to contact Alen over Telia's frequency, so he had time to burn. Not only that, but seeing as how the Imperials had no doubt already tracked his hastily chosen destination, they would follow not long after. Nar Shaddaa would give him a proper direction to shift toward. Making a split-second decision, he dropped the ship out of hyperspace and plotted the new course, waiting for the computer to go blue before again punching the hyperdrive into action.

He disappeared into the armory to make several much-needed repairs, dumping the destroyed jetpack in the trash and settling down to ensure his armor's integrity as he waited.

…

Nar Shaddaa

"State your business."

Xel eyed the guard standing in front of him and contemplated the chances of successfully Force Persuading him to just step aside for a moment before deciding on doing things the old-fashioned way. "I'm here to see Maila Yar."

The Nikto's blaster cleared his holster halfway before Xel was on him, one gloved hand clenching around his armed wrist, the other around his neck.

"My name is Xel Caden," he hissed. "I was invited here."

Recognition flashed in the horned alien's eyes, and Xel slowly released him, eyeing him warily as the blaster returned to its resting place. "In that case," he coughed out, "go right in."

"Thank you," Xel said, somewhat annoyed as he strode past him through a set of double-doors.

The large office beyond wasn't as posh or polished as her previous HQ, but still had her flamboyant flair displayed evidently. To his surprise, the slender figure on the far side of the room was dressed rather conservatively, with a high-cut blouse and pants that fit her snugly without being constrictive of her movement. Maila turned to him slowly, her smile as comparatively subdued as her new dwellings. When they'd first met, he had felt the feminine energy practically rolling off her, between the seductive smile she shot his way to the melodious lilt of her voice.

Now that he had the Force at his command, Xel could _see_ the currents of emotion and intent swirling about and within her. The effect was startling, as were the differences. Her posture was already stiff to the naked eye, but in the Force, she was a whirlpool of stress, tension, and, most powerfully, fear. _Fear of what?_ he wondered, striding toward her in full armor, his bruises and injuries mostly healed on the way over thanks to the Force. As he nudged a little deeper into her mind, a process that felt awkward but easy, he could feel the fear coiling within her, directed both at a nebulous, unknown entity…

His eyes widened. _And at me._ A long sigh left him as a small, compassionate smile crept to his face. He halted four feet from her, eyes locking even with the black visor between them. He tried hard to make his voice as soft as possible when he spoke.

"I thought you were dead."

Her tight, strained smile widened a little at his concerned tone, her ice-blue eyes flitting away. "Almost."

He stepped closer, cringing as she flinched and gently laying a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

Maila's mouth opened slightly and her eyes went to his visor again. Surprise was written all over her features and signature in the Force. She was expecting anger, resentment, blame, hatred even, but all she was getting from his voice was concern. "I…I was found."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "By whom?"

She pulled away and started pacing. "By a competitor. An Umbaran named Nel Maltis. Runs a nasty ring of slavers in Hutt space. His lieutenant, a Trandoshan, somehow managed to get the location of my last hideout on the day you chased down Hammer. I hid to save my skin, allowing the Imps to lie in wait. I'm sorry."

Xel's eyes narrowed behind his helmet as he remembered Vader's words from that day.

"_I convinced her to take a leave of absence."_

"Doesn't that seem a little convenient to you?"

Renewed fear went through her.

Xel winced as she misinterpreted his meaning. He could clearly tell she was telling the truth. "I mean, Imperials show up just as you leave because a rival _somehow_ finds you and decides to pay a visit? How would they even know where I was headed?"

"I—I don't know," she sputtered, withdrawing ever so slightly as she stared into that unyielding faceplate. "Maybe…"

"Maybe they had someone on the inside."

Surprise, then relief coursed through the Zeltron as she finally understood. "Who did, though? Maltis or the Imps?"

Xel shrugged, thumbs hooking on his belt. "Dunno. Maybe both, maybe neither." His eyes widened as another possibility occurred to him. "It was calculated."

"What?"

"_Vader_ tipped off your rival to lure you away."

Her eyes went wide. "Vader?" Her body started shaking slightly. "You mean…_he_ was the one who—?"

"Who killed my father? Yes."

If it were possible, her eyes widened even further. "That…was your father."

Xel blinked as he remembered he'd never told her. To _auretiise_, all Mandos looked the same in armor, and their various expressions and body language were unknown, so there was no way to tell by their actions. "Yes. My partner was also my father." His left hand drifted to his right pauldron. "He…gave his life for mine."

She gulped and closed her eyes.

"Hey."

A firm hand tipped her chin up.

"He won't expect me to come here again, not since he put you on the run, and I know plenty of ways to ditch tails."

A small, grateful smile crept to her face at his concern, and she laid a hand on his arm as the smile turned slightly impish. "Must bite to be the hunted for once."

Xel chewed his cheek and couldn't help but smirk a bit. "Yeah." He sighed heavily, stepping back. "You can say that again." A long silence passed between them. "So, that offer of yours still stands, huh?"

Her eyes brightened visibly. In fact, her entire body language shifted, making her look more like her old self. "As a matter of fact, it does." She leaned back against her desk, arching her back ever so slightly and gazing at him from behind half-lidded eyes, as if sizing him up.

He smirked and crossed his arms. "Think you're woman enough to handle me?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly as her smile widened. "Is that a challenge?"

Caden grinned behind his helmet. _There's the Maila I know._ "First things first, though." He sighed. "You don't actually know who's behind the mask."

"I don't know what you look like behind the mask. There's a difference."

Xel's hands paused on the sides of his helmet. "All too true." A dark thought of how that might be applied to Darth Vader floated through his head before he dismissed it and lifted the _buy'ce _off his head.

The effect on Maila was palpable in the Force. Whatever images she had conjured of the man behind the mask were…well, they weren't what was facing her now. His two-inch jet-black hair hung down slightly, framing his tanned features and dark blue eyes perfectly despite the helmet's tousling.

"A little…younger than you expected?" he asked her with his real voice, for the first time.

"Well…yes." Her seductive smile returned a moment later. "Not that I'm disappointed."

Caden smirked as he tucked his helmet under his arm, striding closer to her. "Glad to hear it. For a second there, I was worried you'd find this ugly mug repulsive." He waved at his face.

She broke out into a grin and punched his arm playfully. Both shared a laugh, smiling at each other as each waited for the other to act first. Xel started to raise his free hand, but stopped a split-second later as that same predatory image slammed into his consciousness.

"Get down!" he shouted, tackling her behind the desk as half the office's windows blew in, sending sheets of broken glass across the room like crystalline spears.

Most of them landed on the far wall, some bouncing off the desk and others digging into the synthetic wood as Xel's armored body shielded her from any strays. When it was over, they both rose to a crouch, the Mando retrieving his fallen helmet as they peered out the window. Four floodlights activated at once, and for a single, raging moment, Caden thought he'd been tracked. When he reached out with the Force, though, there was none of the cool professionalism he'd come to associate with Imperial soldiers, nor was there any feeling of the black hole that was Darth Vader. All he felt was savage aggression, and it was _all_ directed at Maila.

"Maila Yar!" a reptilian voice roared, confirming his suspicions. "Come out now and we will make your death quick!"

Xel's helmet instantly went back on as his blasters cleared their holsters. "Not gonna happen!" he answered for her, punctuating the statement with a trio of shots that nailed the man next to the speaker, the Force guiding his hands where his eyes failed due to the glare. "Go!" He shoved her toward the office's doors, putting himself between her and the enemy as he suppressed them. Blaster fire crossed paths in the office and the air outside as the gangsters opened fire, several shots pelting his _beskar_ and one managing to nick the gap at his left shoulder.

The Mando hissed in pain as he rounded the corner, joined by the Nikto guard in his defense of Yar. The woman herself was not defenseless, though, and demonstrated this by drawing a Q2 and sending several shots through the gap. A stray round hit the Nikto, and he recoiled sharply as his arm fell limp at his side.

"Jeel!"

"Fine, milady."

Xel glanced at the injury as he kept up the pressure, weighing his options and stretching out to the Force to see if he could spot any others. The guard wasn't too badly injured, but if that wound went untreated, he could lose the arm. Focusing on living long enough to see to him, Caden grabbed Maila's shoulder and slapped the guard's to get him to follow. They both retreated down a hallway, rounding one corner after the next until Xel's Force senses pinged a slightly malevolent presence just ahead. He snapped around and was about to pull the trigger when Maila grabbed his arm.

"No! Xel, this is Yetha. She's my assistant."

Xel glanced from Maila to the girl, eyes narrowing. He recognized her from five months ago, true, but…there was something wrong. Deciding to trust Yar's judgement for now, he lowered his blasters and hoped he wasn't making a mistake as he grabbed her arm too, half-dragging both ladies along. When they reached the turbolift to the landing pad, Jeel hesitated, then faced Maila.

"I will stay and stall them."

"Oh no you don't." Xel huffed and clamped a gloved hand on his injured arm, yanking him inside the lift and shutting the doors, keying the floor of his ship. "I've seen enough stupid heroics to last a lifetime, and there's _really_ no reason for it here."

The Nikto rubbed his burn gingerly, scowling at the Mando for twofold reasons.

"He's right," Maila said. "You've served me well, Jeel. I won't sacrifice you needlessly."

The alien gulped and nodded stiffly as the doors opened, leaving them with a straight shot to his ship.

Or so they thought.

A speeder flew in at a breakneck speed, landing on one end of the pad and laying down a series of automatic shots that sent them scattering to separate cover. They exchanged fire with the gangsters for a few more seconds before Maila formed a plan in her head.

"Split up!" she yelled to Jeel over the whine and roar of discharging blasters. "They're only after me! We'll draw them off, you get Yetha to safety!"

"Milady," he protested, not trusting her in the Mando's care.

Xel knew it. "No, _di'kut_! You're injured, and I've got better armor _and_ firepower. I'm her best shot." Adding just a little Force to the statement, he saw the Nikto reluctantly nod in acknowledgement. "Maila, let's move."

She nodded and gave her people one last look, as did Xel, though the latter's gaze was directed at one in particular, and for far different reasons. His eyes narrowed behind his faceplate. _There's something about that woman._ Pushing that thought away, he sprinted between his charge and the attackers, laying down automatic fire from his pistols and running them near empty as they charged toward an empty speeder, Maila taking the controls and speeding off. As expected, the rival gang's soldiers pursued them, ignoring Maila's employees entirely. Xel prompted her to take a left turn, then a right and a sharp dive several levels down, the darkness of the city cloaking their movements as he shut off the headlights.

"Woah," she protested, hitting the airbrakes.

He laid a hand on her arm, gently moving her from the pilot's seat. "Trust me." He gunned the throttle, narrowly avoiding being seen as he flew through a small gap between two buildings. He expertly weaved through one building after the next, Maila's eyes wide open as she stared at the back of his head.

"How—?"

"How am I doing this? Two words." He tapped his helmet. "Integrated optics." At her raised eyebrow, he added, "Night vision." In all seriousness, the Force had more to do with it than his helmet.

She quirked a smirk despite the seriousness of the situation, leaning back in her seat as she laid her life in his hands. This man—boy, really, who she had expected animosity from, was showing off, and in the process quite possibly flirting with her, while fleeing for their lives from outnumbering outlaw forces. The realization made her grin and shake her head.

"You're staring," he pointed out without looking.

"How'd you know that? Helmet have eyes in the back of its head?"

He raised an eyebrow. _Well, technically…_ "I don't need to see you to know when your eyes are boring a hole into the back of my skull."

"Hey, I'm staring, not glaring."

He grinned and chuckled. "We should ditch the speeder somewhere."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, we'll need to stop running sooner or later, and best not to leave a recognizable vehicle lying around, yeah?"

"Right. Of course."

He was silent a while before furrowing his brows. "Just how many people try to kill you on a regular basis?"

"A lot. Usually it's just one or two at a time, though, not forty."

He grinned behind his faceplate. "Look at it this way. It means you're moving up in the world. Soon you'll have proper hunters on you, nasty, cold-blooded—"

"Is this your idea of encouragement?"

"Just trying to look at the bright side," he laughed.

She shook her head. "I'd hate to see your dark side."

His blood froze a little as his smile faded, memories of his confrontation on Obroa-skai coming to his consciousness. "Yeah…me too." He could feel a slight pang of regret from her, but she said nothing. The speeder came to a halt on a lower catwalk, the Mando quickly rising and climbing out, offering Maila a hand and assisting her dismount. He tapped her arm. "This way." They made their way across one catwalk after the next, walking across the concourse into the Promenade, a vast plaza filled with lights, shops, and all manner of crowds. Unfortunately, their entry was too late.

Xel pushed Maila down as two blaster bolts streaked through where her head had just been, tagging a pedestrian instead. Caden whipped his body around, firing at the attacker and tagging the man next to him. The red reptilian eyes of a Trandoshan glared at him murderously, the animosity from earlier now focused almost entirely on him. Xel's head cocked in confusion before he ran off in the direction of an alley and the open skyline. The whir of a blade flying through the air reached his ears, and he spun sideways to put his gauntlet up. To his surprise, the vibroblade stuck in the metal, and he locked gazes with the Trando before running again, pulling the blade out and sprinting with Maila in front of him.

"Keep going!" he shouted, giving her a gentle shove forward as he broke off. Xel glanced at her shocked expression as she looked back to see empty air, then broke into another desperate sprint. Xel, for his part, had Force Jumped to a rooftop twenty-five feet above her and was tailing her from above, taking great care in his steps, being that he had no jetpack. He leapt between two buildings to keep up, taking note of the Trando's teams splitting into different alleys to cut her off. Smirking malevolently, he dropped the full distance to land feet-first on the head of a pursuing Rodian, snapping his neck instantly and rolling toward his partner.

A _beskar_ blade left its sheath and imbedded itself in one of a Zabrak's two hearts, impaling the other a second later as Xel discarded the corpse and sprinted past them. He followed the threads of Maila's fear straight to her, leaping to another perch to retain his bird's-eye view. _Three more teams converging on the next intersection._ His eyes opened as he leapt the distance to the next building, rolling on contact and considering the next area. Three teams, fifteen contacts, one Trandoshan, the rest an assortment of aliens...and Maila was headed to a dead end, a rooftop whose only ways off were either the way she came or a dizzyingly high drop. Xel's teeth clenched.

They had well and truly backed her into a corner, and there was no way he'd survive against all fifteen in one shot. As he leapt to another rooftop, Xel felt the insistent clink of an object on his belt and looked down to see his brother's lightsaber. His eyes widened. _Possibly..._ His armored head shook. He was good with a saber, but nowhere near the level of his brother or Telia, and all it would take was one good shot in the right place to stun him long enough for the others to finish him off. Looking up, he saw a better way and smiled as confidence filled him.

...

Maila ran onto the rooftop, her red skin alight with the simulated fire of a billboard above, and instantly realized her mistake. She looked around frantically, trying to find some way off that didn't include an unfortunate side product of death. The moment she understood there wasn't one, her hand dropped to the blaster at her hip and drew it, aiming it threateningly at her enemy's leader.

"You want me, lizard?" she said in a hiss. "Here I am."

The Trandoshan grinned toothily, razor-sharp white teeth complemented by blood-red eyes as his forked tongue flicked out momentarily. He raised his left arm, as if to motion his men to line up as a firing squad, which they did. Maila stared back defiantly. She wouldn't be joining oblivion alone. As her finger started to squeeze around her weapon's trigger, the sound of a hydraulic pop reached the ears of everyone present, and six pairs of eyes, including Maila and the Trando, looked up.

Xel had launched a grappling hook from his left gauntlet and swung off the side of a building in a pendulum motion, his downward momentum building until he swung back up, kicking his legs forward to add force and cutting the cable as his body reached the peak of its arc. A flash of bright metal came from his hands as his body flipped upright next to a billboard—right above the clustered enemy force. What happened next, none of them could have predicted.

_Snap-hiss._

Her eyes widened. _No way._

The sapphire blade that came from his hands sliced through the board's primary support, and he deactivated it to launch his cable again, swinging away from the toppling structure as it fell thirty feet to pancake all but four of the enemy. The Trandoshan captain, one of the few survivors, let out a guttural growl at the Mando, teeth and claws baring in tandem as Xel dropped to her level and drew his blasters.

...

"Come on, you ugly fierfeks!" Xel taunted from behind his helmet. From the corner of his eye, he could see Maila eyeing him warily, her gaze flickering to the cylinder at his belt. He sighed internally and sensed there would be a lot of explaining to do once this was over.

Both of them fired at the now-reduced opposing force, tagging two more thugs and pinning the last two down behind a rooftop compressor. Xel nodded to Maila, who went sideways as he sprinted straight toward the compressor, leaping over the device in a twist-flip and plugging the Trando's last guard on his way down. The final thug bared his teeth and rushed him, grabbing both his wrists and roaring in his faceplate as his blasters clattered to the ground.

"Just imagine," he hissed. "I hear of my dear cousin's death and months later, while hunting down a job, run into his killer."

Xel's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait...what?"

The Trando slammed him against the compressor back-first. "Brack Anthis. You murdered Brack Anthis."

Blue eyes went wide as he looked at his right shoulder. "I can see why you'd think so." His visor returned to the lizard. "I didn't kill him, my partner did." His helmet slammed into the Trando's muzzle hard in a _kov'nyn_, causing him to roar in pain and release his wrists. Xel leapt into the air and delivered a falling elbow to his shoulder, feeling bone and muscle give under the strike as he staggered back. Caden slowly drew his knife, lazily twirling it using the ring until he stopped it in an underhanded grip. "But I'm perfectly happy to reunite you."

The lizard roared and charged at him as Xel met his animalistic fury in kind, smashing together in a pile of flesh, metal, and muscle.

...

Barely two minutes later, it was over. Anthis lay in a bleeding pile of scales, and Xel stood over his body victorious, little the worse for wear, knife bloodied. _Funny_, he'd thought, _Dad said not to go up against a Trando up close._ He suspected that was because Xander was restraining his Force abilities on Coruscant. Now, Maila and Xel were in an apartment just off the Upper Promenade, a safehouse of sorts he and his father reserved for times of crisis. Xel had taken off his helmet, gauntlets, gloves, and chest armor, stacking the plates neatly on a bench and cleaning his weapons on instinct.

Maila watched him with almost absent interest, eyes drifting every so often to the lightsaber still hanging from his belt. He could feel her staring and decided to break the silence.

"Are you just gonna sit there all night or ask me what you want to ask?"

She sighed softly and stood up, striding up to stand at his side. "Where did—?"

"Where did I get the lightsaber?" He shrugged. "Where else? From a Jedi."

She pursed her lips at his deliberate ambiguity. "So what is it then? It's not just for show." Maila snickered a bit. "You _overwhelmingly_ demonstrated that." She cocked her head. "Is it a trophy?" She watched as his hands stopped moving.

Xel didn't know why the question bothered him. Considering that was the function of lightsabers worn by most Mandos, it was a logical assumption. "No," he answered quietly, unclipping the weapon and inspecting it in silence.

"What then?"

His expression and lips tightened as his grip around the hilt did. "A promise." Not only to return it to its rightful owner, but in doing so to force an unbreakable pact of brotherhood. Vode an_,_ he thought. Even if Alen wasn't a Mando, he was family. Xel's eyes closed. _The last of my family._ He released a heavy breath as he set the saber down next to his blasters. "But I don't want to talk about that right now. Or...anything, for that matter."

She turned his head to face her. "What then? What is it you want, right now?"

His eyes closed again, a sharp stinging sensation plaguing them as memories flashed in his mind. Xander, facing off against Vader. Alen, facing off against Vader. Telia, facing off against Vader. Vader. Vader. _Vader_. His eyes opened, reddened, half by grief, half by anger, as his expression mirrored the combination. Two dark blue orbs met ice blue ones in an intense stare as he whispered his response.

"To forget."

Maila smiled slightly and nodded her head in understanding as she reached for the seal on his suit's shoulder, lips brushing against his ear. "Then you came to the right place."


	15. Memories

She turned his head to face her. "What then? What is it you want, right now?"

His eyes closed again, a sharp stinging sensation plaguing them as memories flashed in his mind. Xander, facing off against Vader. Alen, facing off against Vader. Telia, facing off against Vader. Vader. Vader. _Vader_. His eyes opened, reddened, half by grief, half by anger, as his expression mirrored the combination. Two dark blue orbs met ice blue ones in an intense stare as he whispered his response.

"To forget."

Maila smiled slightly and nodded her head in understanding as she reached for the seal on his suit's shoulder, lips brushing against his ear. "Then you came to the right place."

…

Next morning

Nar Shaddaa

1 year, 2 months BBY

A soft, lithe body rolled over under the covers of a common yet comfortable bed, its left elbow nudging against something hard yet pliable. Ice blue eyes opened to see the golden light of morning streaming through a crack between curtains, squinting against it and turning to the side to see the source of their host's feeling. A small smile came to Maila's face as she laid her head down against Xel's bare chest, one hand absently stroking a fading bruise. Things hadn't turned out quite as…out-of-control as she'd intended last night. For whatever reason, all her partner needed was the feel of someone in his arms, not the full ecstasy she was offering.

_Not that I minded._ She chewed on her lip. _Okay, maybe I did a little._ Regardless, it was…satisfying. He was clearly inexperienced with women, but his passion more than made up for it. She hooked a mostly bare leg over his hip and pulled herself closer, nuzzling his neck as she snuggled under the covers. Her eyes closed gently as she inhaled deeply in time with his breathing. The groggy woman was slowly falling back to sleep, halfway unconscious, when she felt his breathing change slightly. A moment later, a set of fingers weaved through her raven hair, fixing the rogue strands that were scattered along her living pillow's chest.

"Good morning," a deep voice said softly.

She smiled wider against his chest. "Morning." Maila looked up into his eyes, darkened even further by the shadows cast by his halfway-closed lids. "Sleep well?"

He looked away and seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding and wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "I did. Very well, in fact."

Maila hummed in enjoyment as their lips met gently, pulling away a second later to look at him. "I give you enough amnesia last night?"

He smirked and pressed his lips to her cheek, then neck. "You did."

"And everything else?"

Xel pulled away as his smirk widened, eyes looking away contemplatively. "It was…" his smile widened, "adequate."

She outright gaped as he grinned, then smacked his chest playfully.

"Ow!" he protested.

"That's what you get when you insult a woman in bed."

"I—I did not."

"You certainly did." She turned away from him exaggeratedly, deliberately putting her back to him and crossing her arms.

"Really?"

Two warm arms were felt under hers, and she weakly pushed them away before they looped around her bare midsection, pressing her back against his chest as his head nestled against her shoulder. "Tyrant," she mock pouted.

"Neuron."

Her left eyebrow raised.

"'Cause you're so sensitive."

"Pshht, please. I will have you know that I have _quite_ the tolerance for pain."

His body tensed at her back.

"Xel?"

"It's nothing," he assured, tangibly forcing himself to relax.

Her smirk faded to a concerned frown as she turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck as their foreheads touched. "No it's not." Her eyes searched his, those dark pools full of mystery and hidden emotion. "Xel, talk to me. You…you trust me, don't you?"

He raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "I trust you enough not to put a knife in my gut." He smiled wider. "Although I guess I should be worried about blunt force instead."

Maila rolled her eyes. "Xel, I'm serious."

"I know." He was silent.

"So you still don't want to talk about it."

He looked away. "It's…not my secret to tell. At least, not mine alone."

Her eyes narrowed. "Just tell me something. Does it have anything to do with why you're in the crosshairs of Darth Vader himself?"

…

_Okay, I'll admit it. She's good._ As he trailed a hand down the skin of her back, a smile crept onto his face, memories of the night before flashing in his mind's eye. _Quite good._ Belatedly, he realized she was waiting for an answer and sighed.

"Yes," he answered simply, looking away.

"And I take it you can't tell me specifics?"

"No." He returned his eyes to hers, those ice blue orbs searching, trying to pierce his armor, then softening as she nodded.

"Okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

She chuckled darkly. "Xel, you saved my _life_ last night. After I left you hanging and failed to warn you not to come back. Your father _died_ because of me, and you saved my life." Her fingers stroked and smoothed his hair back. "I think you're entitled to more than a little privacy."

He opened his mouth to say something, closing it a second later and smiling. "Thank you."

…

1 hour later

After another twenty minutes letting their bodies wake up, the pair got dressed, Xel in his _beskar'gam_, her in the casual suit from the night before, and took a speeder to her half-ruined headquarters. Xel was overjoyed to see his ship still parked on the landing pad, no worse for wear. It seemed they were really were just after Yar. He had headed straight into the _Kandosii'tal_, giving Maila an impromptu tour in the process as he transmitted his coordinates over Telia's frequency found in Xander's datacron. As they descended the ramp, two familiar figures came into view, walking out of the building.

"Jeel!" Maila shouted warmly, smiling as she trotted over. "Yetha!"

Xel's eyes narrowed at the shorter woman, calling on the Force and focusing his senses on her. His eyes widened as the full verification of his previous suspicion verified.

"Maila," he said firmly, the sharp tone of his voice stopping her in her tracks. "Get away from her."

"Xel?" she asked, perplexed.

He stepped between them, one arm keeping the Zeltron back, his eyes boring holes in the other woman's eyes. As he looked at her, both with his eyes and with the Force, the cool malevolence and predatory intelligence behind her light brown eyes and benign façade were revealed.

As was the Luxan Penetrator hidden in her jacket.

Their eyes locked in an intense stare, both coiled as the others present realized something was about to happen. Xel reached out to the Force and merely raised his hand ever so slightly.

"Tell her the truth, Yetha."

The short woman twitched, her features twisting slightly as she subconsciously fought his influence.

Xel poured more Force into his hissed words. "Tell her the _truth_."

The hand that had slowly been reaching for her blaster stopped and fell to her side, fists clenched as she spoke. "I was the mole."

Maila's mouth dropped a little as feelings of betrayal flooded her. "W—What?" She shook her head, voice lowering in anger. "What did you say?"

Despite being under Xel's influence, Yetha leaned toward her and snarled threateningly. "I. Was. The. Mole."

Maila's teeth clenched. "Why? We've worked together for years, Yeth. I've never once mistreated you. Why in the Emperor's name would you sell me out?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're right. We've worked together…for _years_. Years at your beck and call, as your assistant, as nothing more than a glorified house servant." She smiled malevolently. "Well, I decided to show you just what I'm capable of."

"And," Xel voiced dangerously, "I suppose you thought that selling her out to the Empire was a great way to do that."

She looked at him, genuinely confused. "The Empire? Oh, no…fierfek, no." Yetha looked back at her employer. "I had a friend in the neighborhood, someone who specializes in information brokering."

_He must have been an agent of Vader._ "Who?" Xel hissed, taking a step toward her.

She opened her mouth slightly and took a step back.

"A _name_, Yetha. I want…a name." Xel's hand dropped to his knife.

"I—I can't." She looked genuinely scared as he kept advancing, pushing her to the edge of the platform.

"You _can_, and you _will_." The knife left its sheath as he rushed forward, left hand gripping her neck, the right pressing his blade to it.

Her eyes went wide in terror, her whole body shaking as his young features twisted into a furious scowl. "I…"

"Speak now—" he added just enough pressure to draw blood, "—or die."

"He…he never gave me a name."

"I thought you said he was a friend."

"A resource, more like. An asset."

Xel narrowed his eyes. "No. _You_ were the asset. How did you get into contact with him?"

"It was an encrypted Holonet frequency. One-way only. Trust me, I tried."

His teeth were clenched. "How did you get the frequency?"

"It…it landed in my terminal seven months ago, with a message."

"What message?"

She gulped, her skin sliding against the _beskar_ blade. "The guy…on the other end…he wanted me to report every few days, send him information on Maila's clients and visitors. Nothing invasive, just summaries. In return, he paid me generously and promised that I'd be at the top of the food chain one way or another." She glanced nervously at Maila.

Xel chuckled darkly, pulling back his knife ever so slightly. "You idiot. You were never any more than a pawn." He looked away for a moment. "Do you think you could send a message to this…friend?"

"No," she answered with a shake of the head. "He, or she, stopped responding after Maila was attacked."

His eyes narrowed. "Unfortunate." _For you._ "Looks like you're of no further use to me, then."

Her body went rigid.

Xel's grip tightened around the knife. "I'd slot you out of principle any day."

Yetha closed her eyes and waited for the end.

Metal skidded against carbo-plas as a blade returned to its sheath.

"Unfortunately," Xel said almost wearily, "I'm not the one you knowingly hung out to dry." He turned away and strode back toward his ship, pausing to put a hand on Maila's shoulder and look back at the shamed woman. "Your life isn't mine to take." He started walking again, boarding his ship a few seconds later. The Force flared with sudden aggression from Yetha before a loud report issued from behind him, the feeling vanishing an instant later.

…

"So…last night."

Maila looked up from her datapad, giving her interrogator a questioning look. "What about it?"

Xel was leaning back against a wall next to her desk, arms crossed, staring at the far wall. "It was…" His voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

He sighed heavily. "I needed it."

She put the datapad down and leaned back in her seat, fingertips touching. "Okay? What is it you're trying to say exactly?"

He was hesitating, frustration and guilt warring in his features.

"One-time?"

He looked even further away from her. "Maybe. Maybe not." He stayed silent.

"Was that your first time being…intimate?"

Xel half-opened his mouth when she cut him off with a pointed finger.

"Be honest."

The boy broke into a grin. "I'm always honest."

She raised an eyebrow. "The last twenty-four hours have taught me _that's_ a lie."

His smile faded.

"Sure, you're honest with most people. People you know, anyway, but…yourself?" She shook her head. "You're not honest with yourself, and that makes you dishonest to other people." From his intense, floorward expression, she could tell she was right. "I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me."

Xel looked back to her, reaching out with the Force and probing her consciousness for any signs of deception, of malevolent intent. He considered himself a fairly good judge of character even _before_ his Force training. If neither of his arrays of senses was sending up alarm bells, that had to mean she was trustworthy…right? After all, the late Yetha was the one who sold him and Xander out, not her boss. He shook his head slowly.

"There's someone coming to meet me here. When he arrives…then I'll know whether or not to tell you."

A raven eyebrow raised. "That's awfully cryptic."

Xel shrugged. "Comes from being a hunter…and the hunted, I might add. You learn to say things without actually giving information. It's a useful skill for someone in my position."

"I'll bet."

They were both silent a while.

Maila chuckled. "Here I was, just this morning, telling you I didn't need to know and now I'm pressing again." She shook her head. "So when's this friend of yours coming?"

A loud beep came from Xel's helmet, and he picked it up, pulling it on and activating his comlink. "Caden here."

"Good to hear your voice, Xel. I got your coordinates."

Xel smiled and nodded. "How long?"

"Check your viewscreen."

He turned his head to look out the window, seeing a repainted T-6 shuttle hovering just off the surface of the landing pad. Xel grinned and shook his head as he nodded to Maila and strode out the door. Barely thirty seconds later, they were waiting in an artificial dust storm, the pale burgundy and gray shuttle touching down next to the _Kandosii'tal_. A tall figure strode out of the landing ramp, a dark brown hood over his features as he approached the pair.

"Alen."

The man nodded to the armored Mando. "Xel." They stopped in front of each other. "You have it?"

Xel nodded and reached to the left side of his belt, unclipping the lightsaber and handing it to him pommel first. "Kept it safe, _vod_."

"_Vod_?" Maila asked, eyebrows raised, both at the word and the exchange.

The hooded figure appraised her with narrowed eyes, his face shadowed by the hood's deflection of the noonday sun. "Who's this?" he asked evenly.

Xel turned to the Zeltron. "This is Maila Yar. She's my…friend."

Yar smiled at the figure sweetly and held out her hand. "A pleasure."

He shook it and bowed slightly. "Likewise." The man turned back to Xel. "Can we talk?" he asked, nodding toward the _Kandosii_.

Xel nodded and led him onto the ship, closing the landing ramp behind him. He popped his helmet and tucked it under his arm, Alen pulling back his hood as they faced each other. "What's up?"

Alen smirked ever so slightly.

Xel rolled his eyes. He _hated_ that look. "What?"

The Jedi smiled mischievously and started poking his arm. "You and her…"

Xel pushed him away. "Ugh, you're such a kid!"

"Says the younger twin."

"Yeah, by fifteen minutes."

Alen grinned and crossed his arms. "Still counts."

"I thought Jedi weren't supposed to lord their power over others."

He puffed his chest out exaggeratedly. "We're the next generation. We break _all_ the rules."

"Uh huh," Xel mocked, smiling crookedly and striding toward the ramp.

Alen gripped his arm firmly, stopping him. "Can we trust her?"

The Mando's lips pursed tightly. "She's given me no evidence to the contrary, either in action or in feeling."

The older boy nodded slowly. "I trust you, so if you trust her, so do I."

Xel breathed out heavily, and a weight he didn't know he'd had lifted off his shoulders. Ever since early childhood, secrets had never sat well with him. They walked off the ship together, Alen nudging Xel's side with his elbow as he grinned like an idiot, a confused Maila looking on as Xel kept pushing him away. When they reached her, Alen had mostly regained his Jedi calm, a small smirk still on his face as he looked at the Zeltron.

"Did I miss something?"

"Nothing important," Xel answered quickly, giving Alen a firm glare.

"So, about that thing you wanted to tell me but couldn't?"

Caden sighed and nodded, motioning to the building. This wasn't a conversation to have in the open. Entering the office, Xel swept the place for bugs.

"There aren't any," Maila assured him. "After Yetha…I made sure."

Xel blinked and nodded, laying his helmet on her desk again and standing next to Alen. "So…I wasn't entirely truthful when I said he was a friend."

A raven eyebrow raised.

Xel put a hand on Alen's shoulder. "This…is Alen Li-am. My brother. Twin, really."

Her other eyebrow met the raised one. "Fraternal, clearly."

"Well, yeah. He's…"

"A Jedi."

Xel gulped and nodded slowly.

Maila leaned back into her seat and exhaled sharply, eyes turning away. "I didn't think there were any Jedi left."

"That's the idea," Alen said, his voice tight and professional. "If people don't know about us, neither does the Empire."

She nodded slowly, turning to Xel. "So this is your big secret, the one your father died for? That your brother's a Jedi?"

"_And_ mother," he added. "But…no, this isn't it. At least, not _all_ of it."

"Oh?"

Xel raised his arm and effortlessly called his helmet to his hand.

Her eyes matched the buttons of her blouse. "Oh," she breathed out.

"Yeah. Paints a _real_ big bull's eye on my back."

"So your entire family—"

"Is Force-sensitive," Alen finished.

"That's why Vader's so interested," Xel added.

She nodded slowly, shaking her head a second later. "It all makes sense now. The secrets, the mystery, how you're so good at your job."

"Well, _that_ you can attribute most to Mando training. I didn't even know about my Force connection until five months ago."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean—"

"It was his parting message to me."

Maila leaned back again. "Woah," she breathed.

Silence reigned over the room for a while.

"So," Alen said finally, "Xel, any idea what to do next?"

The Mando pursed his lips, contemplating their situation. They were two thirteen-year-olds, one a Jedi, the other a Mandalorian warrior, universally accepted as two of the most dangerous types of people to run across. Their mother had been captured by the Empire—scratch that, by _Darth Vader_ himself. Their father was dead. They had two ships and a decent amount of credits. For once in Xel's life, there was no obvious path, no set direction. It was a vastly disorienting feeling.

"I…don't know." He looked to the side, then at his brother. Dark blue eyes flickered to the device hanging at his belt, and his eyes widened as an epiphany struck him. He approached Alen and pulled him aside, speaking in low tones. "Given that I have a body, power cell, and sufficient emitters, would I have everything I need to build a lightsaber?"

Alen looked at the wall in concentration. "You'd still need a core crystal."

Xel reached into a small hardcase at his belt and pulled out the Ruusan crystal.

The Jedi shook his head. "No. The Ruusan counts as a _focusing_ crystal, which is meant to enhance the power of a lightsaber. The core crystal is usually one bearing a specific color. Adegan crystals are the most common, but there are others that can be found on planets across the galaxy."

Xel pursed his lips. "And I'm guessing Nar Shaddaa isn't one of 'em."

Alen shook his head.

The Mando sighed heavily. "Maila," he said, turning to her, "do you think…do you think you could watch one of our ships?"

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms with a smirk. "I'm not a long-term parking service, Xel."

"It won't be long-term, I promise. We just need to take a trip. It's important."

The Zeltron looked between them and thought for a moment before nodding. The brothers turned to each other.

"Your ship or mine?" Alen asked.

"We're taking mine. The _Kandosii_ has everything we need."

He nodded and turned to Maila. "Miss Yar, a pleasure meeting you." Alen bowed respectfully.

She tipped her head in response. "Likewise, Jedi."

"Just for future reference, you might not want to say that too loudly."

Maila smiled sweetly and nodded, eyes closing momentarily. "Your secret is safe." She turned to the younger brother. "As is yours."

"My thanks," Xel responded, turning for the door and slipping his helmet on.

…

The Kandosii'tal, orbit over Nar Shaddaa

"So…where's our best bet?"

Alen thought about it for a moment, turning back and forth in the copilot's seat. "I'm not sure. I found mine on Obroa-skai, but…you've got virtually no ties there."

Xel looked at him confusedly for a moment before his mind drew out a particular memory. "Mom mentioned once that the best crystals are the ones that…resonate with you. Ones that you almost feel a connection to."

Alen nodded. "Exactly." He put his hand on his chin, thinking hard. "Tell me something. Have you ever felt…I dunno how to describe it. Like…weird?"

Xel gave him a snarky look.

"Okay, too broad. Uh…like…" He squinted at the ship's ceiling, eyes widening a few seconds later. "Ah! _Drawn_."

The Mando leaned back against a bulkhead, eyebrows furrowing. "How do you mean?"

"Like, you can't explain it, but you feel a pull toward a certain place or object?" Seeing that his brother wasn't getting it, Alen got up and approached him. "Here, open your mind to me. Open the Bond."

Xel closed his eyes and complied, wincing slightly as he felt Alen's mind touch his own. Five months, and he was still getting used to having someone else in his head. Suddenly, he felt, as Alen so aptly put it, weird. His eyes snapped open.

"Oh."

"Yeah. That."

"Truthfully?" Xel thought about it hard, squinting at the grated floor and letting his eyes wander aimlessly as his mind focused. Dark blue orbs were drawn to something in his peripheral vision, and his expression changed subtly.

"What? What is it?"

"Maybe…" Xel's voice trailed off as he walked into another room, _his_ room, and opened a drawer, pulling out a sharp ivory tusk with a jagged end, turning around and showing it to Alen.

"What…is that?"

He smiled at the object. "My first true kill. This tusk is from a rare albino Boma, native to Onderon's largest moon, Dxun, also known as—"

"The Demon Moon," Alen finished, nodding. "I know it. As part of my training, Mom taught me the history of the Jedi. Most of it, anyway. Dxun was the site of a major conflict just over 3000 years ago."

Xel smiled. "And one of the major Mandalorian bases of operation in that era. Mandalore the Preserver used the moon and the mysteries surrounding it to cloak his operation and its objectives: to gather the scattered clans of _Mando'ade_ and return them to their rightful place."

"If I'm not mistaken, they actually worked with a Jedi general."

He nodded and raised the Boma tusk. "But we digress."

"Right," Alen said with a nod. "So what's the big deal?"

"Dad took me to Dxun as part of my _verd'goten_, a…coming-of-age ritual among Mandalorians that tests all your skills, training, and courage. This was barely a week before I hunted my first bounty with him, right after I'd turned thirteen. He took me to the jungle and told me to find and kill an albino Boma as my test."

"Doesn't sound…_too_ difficult. I mean, for an ordinary person, yeah, maybe, but a Mando?"

"Well, you gotta understand that Bomas are big normally. Massive tusks, with over 600 pounds of pure muscle. Most are large enough to ride. That's the normal ones. Albinos?" He motioned with his hands to indicate a massive difference. "_Gigantic_."

"Gigantic," Alen said in disbelief.

"Gigantic. You know Rontos? Think one of those, except without the long neck, carnivorous, massive tusks, and extremely pale green skin. Could swallow both of us whole and have plenty of room to spare."

Alen's eyebrows shot up. "Okay."

"And this was before I got proper _beskar'gam_. The armor was my gift for completing the trial."

"Okay, that's…yeah that's pretty taxing."

"It gets worse. See, the Boma would be challenge enough, but the jungle itself has evolved to kill you, to kill anything that shows even the slightest sign of weakness." Xel watched a dark expression cross his brother's face.

"And Dad sent you out into that? With no armor?"

"No, I had armor, but compared to _beskar_, it was substandard. I had my pistols, my knife—my _previous_ knife, a couple thermal detonators, and not much else."

"And?" Alen asked anxiously.

"While I was hunting it, tracking it, I ran across this…cave. Just like you said, it felt…weird. I figured it was my instincts telling me there was something wrong, but…maybe they weren't."

Alen smiled slightly. "Sounds like a crystal to me. Do you think you could find it again?"

"I'd never forget." Xel strode to the captain's chair and seated himself, accessing the nav computer. "I found my prey right around the corner." His fingers danced over the keys. "Course to Dxun set. Prepare to jump." As soon as the computer flashed blue, the hyperdrive lever was pushed and the ship accelerated past lightspeed.

…

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

"So why Dxun?"

Xel turned to Alen, eyebrows raised. "Huh?"

"Why did Dad pick Dxun?"

"_Because_ Mandalore the Preserver made it his base of operations. He and his group, his clan, tamed the jungle and made it their home. I guess Dad figured that if I could do the same on a smaller scale, it was good enough to make me an adult."

Alen shrugged. "Makes sense." They were both silent a while. "So, you said 'I have a body' in a hypothetical way back on Nar Shaddaa. Does that mean you actually do have one?"

Xel smiled and stood. "Follow me." He strode right into the workshop and punched the code to open a safe, pulling the door open and reaching for a container inside. He popped the lid off and let Alen peer inside the relatively small box.

"Woah." Ice blue eyes went wide. "Wait, is that—"

"_Beskar_?" Xel grinned. "Yep. Elek taught me the basics of forging it and left some of the raw ore as a gift when he visited us. I totally forgot about it until my training resumed. Surprisingly enough, it was even easier to manipulate than durasteel."

"And it's a lot harder, I'd guess."

"Damn near indestructible, actually." He looked at the pieces, seeing in his head how they all fit together, each and every one of them forged with his own two hands. A gold plate of ciridium, used in the finest _beskar'gam_, was lifted in his fingers, its place around the activation switch visible in his head.

"So why the rush to get your hands on a lightsaber?"

Xel looked at Alen hard, expression hardening slightly. "One way or another, we're going to meet Vader again." His empty hand clenched. "And I'm not gonna be caught with my pants down."

"Right," Alen said quietly, turning away and walking back to the cockpit.

Xel's eyes focused on the box in front of him, fingers closing the lid after replacing the ciridium piece and legs taking him back to his brother.

…

Dxun

An animalistic roar came from Xel, fingers curled in clawed motions as the two creatures in front of him turned and ran. Alen was staring at him, hand on his lightsaber.

"Zakkeg call," Xel explained. "Scares off most creatures on this world, since they're pretty much all preyed on by them."

Alen raised his eyebrows. "Smart."

The two brothers trekked through the jungle, making their way through one vine-tangled path after the other, ducking under wooden and rocky arches. Alen had never been on a world this lush and overgrown, so the currents of the Force were vast, twisting, and fascinating. Xel was looking at the world in a different light, his senses focused on caution rather than investigation. To his surprise, most of the usual predators had avoided them up to that point. The cave was in sight fifteen minutes after they landed, its dark, vine-covered mouth less than inviting.

"Well that's creepy," Alen pointed out.

"You don't say." Before the Jedi could whip out his saber, Xel unsheathed his knife and slashed through the first layer of vines like butter, doing the same to the next before rolling his eyes with a slight groan. A momentary focus of Force energy directed a Blast that shattered the rest of the vines. A finger went to his helmet, activating its night vision function and illuminating the tunnel before them. He winced when a bright spot appeared in his vision, the secondary vision mode deactivating as he saw a pale blue glow in his peripheral vision. "Thanks."

Alen nodded and took point, maneuvering through the cramped space until it came to a fork. "Are you feeling anything?"

Xel closed his eyes and focused, feeling a slight tug in his head. "Yes."

"Which way?"

Another moment's focus was enough to confirm his suspicions. "Left." Another fork, another tug. "Right."

This process repeated for several minutes, taking them through a winding path through the inside of the cave so intricate, neither of them could retrace their steps once the tug stopped. Xel's eyes opened as he felt it go, realizing he hadn't been looking where he was going; he'd been relying on the Force the entire time. Dark blue eyes looked from behind his visor into the blackness beyond the confines of Alen's saber. His night vision activated to show a massive chamber in front of them, and as he started contemplating just how they were going to find the crystal in it, the tug returned, gentler but still as directive.

"Alen," he said as they kept walking, "something's been bothering me."

"Yes?"

"Vader...Vader killed Dad, without a second thought, just because he stood between us. Mom did the same thing."

"So?"

"So why did he take her _alive_?" Xel felt a chill over their Bond.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "And I really don't want to find out."

Xel could only silently agree as the tug became more and more insistent. His head turned in every direction, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

_"Feel, don't think,"_ he could hear Telia saying. _"Don't trust your eyes."_

A small smile came to his face at the memory before he heard a small, predatory hiss. "Alen, if you'd be so kind, turn that thing off."

"What?"

"Turn it off. Trust me."

The saber closed down with a hiss, leaving them in pitch darkness...or so it seemed at first. The more they looked, though, the more it seemed like there was a pale glow coming from somewhere in the cave. The brothers made their way toward it, the Force guiding their steps to an overlook. Ten feet below them, on the other side of the chamber, was a large, glowing crystal formation, blue in color.

"Gotcha," Xel whispered, crouching in preparation to leap down.

"Be careful," Alen warned.

"Don't worry. I braved this jungle once before, when I was young and foolish."

"You _do_ realize it's only been ten months, right?"

He dropped down with a thud. "All the time in the galaxy." Firm, even strides brought him within twenty feet of the crystal. A push from the Force stopped him in his tracks, and he turned slightly to the left right before he heard that same hiss. Glowing yellow eyes peered out at him from the darkness, and he set his stance as he heard a _snap-hiss_ from above and behind.

"No!" he shouted. "This is _my_ fight."

Alen kept his saber on but didn't interfere, a small pang of fear coming over their Bond.

Xel slowly drew his knife, the metal glinting in the pale glow of the crystal on his right as the creature drew closer. He had his suspicions about exactly what this thing was, but only the spines and plates confirmed them once it came closer. An ever-so-slight shudder ran through him at the recognition. _Zakkeg._ His teeth clenched.

"It must have been drawn to the crystal," Alen commented.

Xel merely grunted. "Whatever the case, it's in my way." All his attention focused on the massive creature, its teeth baring at him. "Come on then," he taunted, circling it slowly. "You think you're the king of this cave? Of anything?" He laughed derisively. "You're nothing, just a simple, stupid beast."

It almost seemed to understand him by the way it snarled.

"You think I'll fall like the others?" he asked, motioning to a pile of bones near the crystal. "No. I'm not the prey here." He pointed at the Zakkeg with his knife. "You are. And if you tangle with me, you _will_ fail. I haven't fought through the dark corridors and bright citadels of the galaxy to fall here, to the likes of you. So come on." When it continued circling, he snarled and growled at it animalistically. "Come on!"

The creature roared and charged straight for him, mouth wide open, teeth bared, as Xel called on the Force and leapt straight onto its back, twisting midair to land with his legs around its neck.

"You—" He punched the tip of his knife under an upper neck plate and pushed it up like a lever. "Are—" He grabbed onto its bony head plate for stability as it tried to buck him off, rearing up his knife arm. "Nothing!" The _beskar_ plunged between the crooked plates, punching into the soft flesh below and bypassing all its natural defenses to pierce its brain. The Zakkeg swayed on its four legs for a few steps before falling forward, dead. Xel landed ten feet away, having leapt off a moment before, blade dripping. He cleaned the weapon, sliding the metal across a nearby rock, before returning it to its sheath and approaching the source of the light.

His gloved hand touched the crystal formation as his eyes closed, reveling in the strange sensations coming from it in the Force. He could almost feel it pulsing under his hand as he felt along its surface, taking a knee and reaching down until he found something odd. His eyes opened to look down at the deep blue crystal resting against his fingers, a single, small object at the center of the formation, disconnected from the rest. His head cocked to the side.

"Crystals don't just fall off," he said quietly, an eerie feeling in his gut. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand and letting it settle in his open palm. The structure of the crystal was incredibly intricate, and it seemed to just draw him in. It just...fit him. He smiled.

"Looks like you've been chosen."

Xel looked up to see Alen standing beside him and nodded.

"That's an Adegan crystal, specifically..." Alen took a long look. "Mephite, I believe."

"Powerful?"

"Certainly uncommon, especially with the Empire cracking down on all viable crystals. If it fits you, then it fits."

Xel turned it over in his hand, pulling off his helmet with the other and crossing his legs as he sat by the light of the formation. He unclipped a box from his belt, flipping the top open. "Let's see just how well."

...

"A lightsaber is more than just a weapon."

A blue crystal raised from the ground seemingly on its own, a skeleton of frames, wires, and lenses forming around it.

"As you grow in power, so will it."

Metal plates attached to the joints of the skeleton, turning and pivoting to find their proper places and angles.

"As you mature as a person, so it will as a tool."

A switch attached to a circuit between a high-energy Diatum cell and the wires, a power adjustment knob regulating the current.

"Your actions define what it symbolizes."

More plates formed around the skeleton, sealing around each other in a network of interlocking shields.

"It is your life, a mirror of who you truly are."

The end cap screwed on as the emitter head came in from the other angle, the notched grip layering in on the lower half of the hilt.

"It is your strength, your will, your passion."

Ciridium plating sealed the last piece of the hilt, the notched, golden metal comprising the upper grip around the exposed switch.

"It is the torch that lights up the darkness...or embodies it."

The _beskar_ hilt glinted in the faint light of the cave, spinning slowly and rising with its owner as he stood, floating gently into his waiting hands. The Mando slowly opened his eyes, looking at the starkly practical yet elegant design of the device in his hands, dark blue eyes drifting to the activation switch next to his right thumb. One push of the digit sent a three-foot, sapphire-tinged blade shooting from the hilt with a loud ring, his lightsaber activating for the first time.

Xel cocked his head at the glowing shaft, head spinning in wonder as a small smile crept to his face.

_Who says it can't do both?_

* * *

><p>AN: Xel's lightsaber has a different activation sound from pretty much every other lightsaber in this story. Red blades, I find in the films, typically have the same sound as Vader's when he first confronts Luke on Bespin. Others, blue, green, etc. typically have the ones featured in the duel between Anakin and Obi-Wan.<p>

Xel's...is Luke's lightsaber from Return of the Jedi.

Decided to release a day early, since this chapter was full-length and the next one isn't. Chapter 16 will be released on Friday.

Musical Inspirations:

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi - The Emperor Arrives/The Death of Yoda/Obi-Wan's Revelation: 7:13-8:03—lightsaber assembly and activation


	16. The Hunt Begins

"It is the torch that lights up the darkness...or embodies it."

The _beskar_ hilt glinted in the faint light of the cave, spinning slowly and rising with its owner as he stood, floating gently into his waiting hands. The Mando slowly opened his eyes, looking at the starkly practical yet elegant design of the device in his hands, dark blue eyes drifting to the activation switch next to his right thumb. One push of the digit sent a three-foot, sapphire-tinged blade shooting from the hilt with a loud ring, his lightsaber activating for the first time.

Xel cocked his head at the glowing shaft, head spinning in wonder as a small smile crept to his face.

_Who says it can't do both?_

…

2 hours later

The Kandosii'tal, hyperspace

1 year, 2 months BBY

The soft hum of a lightsaber pervaded the ship's armory, the most open space in the vessel, as Xel used his lightsaber for the very first time. Two shots from practice remotes were blocked with ease, followed by strikes from four others, as Xel kept up a conversation with his brother.

"So," Alen said, "Mandalore the Preserver came into power after the Mandalorians were scattered?"

"Yep," Caden replied, blocking another shot and transferring his saber to another hand to keep up his cadence. "If you're familiar with the history of the Jedi, then you know about Revan."

Alen snorted. "Of course."

"Well," Xel grunted, rolling under a simultaneous salvo and coming up in a horizontal block, "for a time, we called him Revan the Butcher." Xel spun his saber in a Circle of Shelter for barely a moment before using the Force to drive back two remotes temporarily.

"The Butcher?"

"He almost singlehandedly slaughtered dozens of our finest warriors, including Mandalore himself. Mandalore the Ultimate was slain in single combat, a duel at Malachor V." Xel ducked another shot, slashing through the paths of two others before deflecting a fourth. "If that weren't bad enough, he took the Mask of Mandalore and hid it."

Alen's eyebrows furrowed. "What's the big deal about a mask?"

"There isn't one now, but back then, only those who possessed the Mask were acknowledged as true Mandalores. We were aimless, guideless, purposeless. Revan forced us to become assassins and mercenaries, and by so doing prevented us from conquering the galaxy or ever again assembling force enough to." Xel rolled backward, deactivating his saber while in motion and reactivating to block another four shots in rapid succession.

"So did your people just vote the tradition out?"

Xel shrugged. "Basically. Anyway…at some point, Revan lost his memory."

"Yes, I recall that in my studies. He became Dark Lord of the Sith before being betrayed by his apprentice, then came back and beat Darth Malak in his seat of power."

"And he traveled with the man who would become Mandalore the Preserver."

"So…you think he gave this guy the Mask?"

Xel waved the remotes to a stop before deactivating his lightsaber. "It's not a difficult deduction. Granted, the fact that he had amnesia would call the story into question quite a bit, but…" He shrugged. "At this point, it doesn't really matter. Our Mandalores are chosen by their traits, by who is truly most fit to lead. Strength, cunning, and, most importantly, courage are all paramount among us."

"So," Alen said contemplatively, "if you were to, say, hone your skills, both Mandalorian and Jedi, to a laser-fine edge, you could potentially become Mandalore."

He shrugged. "I guess. Never really thought about it." Xel leaned back against a workbench, hefting his new lightsaber and examining it closely.

"Have you integrated the Ruusan crystal yet?"

Xel looked up and shook his head. "Not yet. Still getting used to disassembling it without actually touching it."

"Well, I mean you _can _touch it, it's just…" Alen smiled and crossed his arms. "How much cooler is it to just put it together with your mind?"

Xel raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather not have something blow up in my face, thank you."

"The only way that'll happen is if you screw around with the power cell."

"Oh."

Xel seated himself in a nearby chair and reached into the hardcase on his belt, pulling out the Ruusan crystal and looking into its matrices. He released it and closed his eyes, focusing the Force and levitating both the crystal and his saber. The lower section of his lightsaber disassembled, exposing his Adegan crystal's protective skeleton and the extra slot he built in for any additions. The _beskar_ sheath hovered several inches away as the Ruusan crystal floated up and mounted itself in the slot, rotating to find the perfect position and setting in solidly as he closed the gap behind it. The saber reassembled itself a few moments later, a few rough clinks demonstrating that Xel was still having a little trouble.

He chewed his lip a little at that fact before reaching up and snatching his lightsaber out of the air. Xel stood and strode toward the cockpit, clipping the saber to the left side of his belt using a magnetic seal similar to that on his helmet.

"What's our next move?" Alen asked.

"You're asking me? My ideas ran out after Dxun. Once we get your ship back from Maila…and _I_ give her a long overdue payment, everything that we had yet to do will be done."

Alen pursed his lips. "Not everything."

An image of Telia flashed over their Bond. Xel nodded resolutely. "Right. One way or another, we have to find her."

"I—" Alen fidgeted and played with his hands nervously. "I don't know where to look, or how."

Xel smirked slightly before putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "_Vod_, can we agree right here, right now, that age is irrelevant between us? You can do things I can't, and the reverse is true. Until we get Mom back, we're gonna need each other." He held out his empty hand. "Agreed?"

Alen barely glanced at his hand before shaking it and nodding. "Agreed."

…

Nar Shaddaa

"You weren't kidding when you said the trip was short."

Xel shrugged. "I rarely kid, but when I do, it has nothing to do with business." He lifted a hardcase and laid it on Maila's desk firmly, nodding toward it.

The Zeltron lifted the lid, eyes widening and eyebrows rising. "What's this?"

He just smiled and nodded at it again.

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned toward the case. "Wait…" She fingered through the cred chips inside, mouthing the calculations she was performing in her head. "Xel, this is—"

"16K, as promised."

A smile blossomed on her face. "It's been five months, Xel. There's no need to—"

"A deal's a deal, no matter how long it takes to fulfill."

She sighed and smiled wider at the case, closing it and tucking it into a drawer under her desk. They were both silent for a few moments, neither moving. "So…what will you do now?"

Xel chewed his cheek, a frown of concentration falling over his features. "I need to protect my family…so I will."

A raven eyebrow rose. "I get the feeling that means quite a bit of death."

He smiled wryly and crossed his arms. "What gave it away?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's just the look on your face."

He smiled wider, eyes narrowing slightly as he approached and slowly bent over her desk, laying his hands down on the edges. "And what might that be?"

Maila smirked slightly, leaning back in her chair to put a little distance between them. "Kind of how you're looking at me right now. Like a predator."

Xel raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked coyly, walking around her desk and approaching her chair with slow steps.

"Mhm," she answered, deliberately turning away from him.

He leaned down, lips brushing against her ear, as he whispered. "And what makes you think that's a bad thing?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she smiled widely. _Oh, he _is _a fast learner._ His lips brushed her neck as she craned it to give him easier access, the sensations deliciously tickling her skin. About five seconds in, it stopped quite suddenly, and she felt him pull away. A small frown creased her lips as she turned toward him, noting a much deeper one on his face.

"Xel? What's wrong?"

"I…" His voice was quiet and cracking, almost pained.

She stood and approached him, taking his hands in hers. "Xel?"

"I can't."

Those two words, plus his tone and expression, told her everything she needed to know. "I see." She pulled her hands away, taking her seat again.

"I'm sorry."

Maila gulped and nodded. "I know."

"Where I'm going…there's no place for what we have. It's kill or be killed, and I won't leave ties back to you."

"You're trying to protect me?"

He hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned back, breaking eye contact. "Not entirely. If no one knows we're connected—"

"Then no one can use me against you."

Xel nodded.

Maila pursed her lips. "It…makes sense." She nodded and forced a smile on her face, noticing him do the same. "Well…when you're done…_if_ you're ever done, my doors will be open."

"I…doubt that." He looked away. "And I don't want you to do that."

"What are you talking about?"

He locked eyes with her. "If I come back…I won't be the man you wanted."

"I don't think anything could change you_ that_ much." She crossed her arms. "After all, I sent you that first message after you planted a tracker on my neck and tailed me to a warehouse that became the site of a shootout. For all I knew, you were planning to kill me if I'd been there."

Xel managed a small smile.

"So go, Xel. Besides, it's not as if we were going steady."

He smiled wider. "Right." He turned toward the door and started walking, stopping in the doorway. "I'll…see you later."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

As Xel walked out of her office and, for the moment, her life, Maila turned back to her datapad and uselessly tried to ignore the uncomfortable pang in her heart.

…

The Kandosii'tal, Nar Shaddaa

"So Xel, any ideas on where to start?"

The Mando pressed his lips together as he thumbed the _Kandosii'tal's_ repulsorlifts on and brought the ship into an ascending hover, eyes flickering to the holoprojector showing his seated brother. "Not sure. I've never hunted a Darth before."

"You think he's taken that personal an interest in her?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but if the fact that he let her live is any indication, he's got plans for Telia."

"Right…"

"Alen? We'll find her. We're gonna get her back."

"I—I know."

Alen's ship followed behind Xel's as he jetted out of atmosphere. "For the moment, we're going to treat this like any other hunt. Gather intelligence on our target, figure out patterns. Since this is _Darth Vader_ we're dealing with, both are going to be difficult to do."

"Then…now what?"

"Fear not." He looked at his right pauldron. "Dad taught me everything he knew, and if there's anyone who could find her, it's him. For now, just trust me and follow my lead."

Alen's hologram nodded and set his features.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Xel couldn't help but feet a slight flutter of excitement. _Been a while since I've gone on a proper hunt. _His hands tightened around the control yoke as a malevolent smile came to his face. His hand reached for the hyperdrive controls, engaging a course to Obroa-skai as Alen followed directly behind, one message drifting over their comlink before they shot into hyperspace.

"_Oya, ner vod._ Let's go hunting."


End file.
